Lonely Souls
by Vidicon666
Summary: This takes up the story after Stranger at the gate and covers Season 1. Main story of the Waifs and Strays Universe.  Part of the Waifs and strays universe, Go to my profile for reading order!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's notes:**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters conceived and created by Joss Whedon or any company affiliated to him. I do claim ownership of any and all OC's that appear in this piece of fiction and all non Buffyverse related subjects, organizations and metaphysical discussions. **

**The series is heavily Joyce centric.**

**This is an AU setting, featuring a number of OC's from a novel I am currently writing. One of the characters absolutely refused to cooperate and so I'm giving him a bit of a run in the Buffyverse. It is, if you will, a sort of crossover with an as yet unpublished book.**

**I assume that the reader is aware of the content of the episodes of Buffy. The plotlines of many episodes are only touched upon.**

**I try to incorporate dialogue and occurrences from episodes as best I may into the narrative, but I try not to repeat verbatim or to retell whole episodes. Unless I think it adds to the narrative or is necessary for the development of the characters of course. I am grateful to the transcribers of the scripts I've used, though I regret I do not have their names.**

**This is the second part of the series; it will cover Season 1 upto and including episode 6.**

**As the series progresses there will be changes to canon characters and occurrences. **

**Thoughts are denoted by sentences between asterisks. * * **

**Thanks Josh! Thanks Cast!**

**Reviews are appreciated**

Witches and confused mothers

Principal Robert Flutie held certain views with which Rupert Giles did not agree. As long as these views only pertained to the way in which the pupils of the school were taught, he had no problem ignoring the man, who seemed at least dedicated to making the lives of his charges better and well, more full of learning. Giles was in favour of learning.

Now however the views of the principal conflicted with his own. He sat in the highly uncomfortable chair opposite the Principal and glared impartially between him and the young woman who sat beside him, in an equally uncomfortable chair. She was, he had to admit, very striking and carried herself with an unconscious grace. Her dark hair and bold brown eyes, her humorous smile, her obvious intelligence, the lilting timbre of her voice, they attracted him. It was a pity she was so much younger than he was, and well, so…modern. And annoying.

Flutie spoke again. "Now Mr. Giles, the library is not yours, it belongs to the school and the pupils, and the pupils need to learn to use computers and need to be encouraged to use the library. And as Miss Calendar has so kindly volunteered to help set up a database with her great experience in the field, we will most certainly proceed to create one of the finest library databases in the country!"

Giles noted the slight roll of the Calendar woman's eyes. Even he knew that the programs that contained computer databases were already well developed. Flutie probably understood as much about the use of technology as he did about teaching. He glared at the picture of himself the principal had upon his desk.

"I fail to see why the use of computers is of such great importance. Mankind has done without computers for generations, centuries, since the birth of man. And all of a sudden we must bend our knee to this new…fad? This demon of technology that would enslave us to its will, break our minds and reduce us to mindless, thoughtless consumers of information rather than original thinkers."

Jenny blinked at him *Wow. Technophobe is not the word. This is like the uncrowned king of the tech haters. I wonder if he drives a horse and buggy?*

"I hardly think that being able to find books faster is going to make for less original thinking…Rupert." *Did he just wriggle a bit when I said his name?* "I mean after all, they'll have more time for the actual reading if they don't have to go through the card index." She batted her eyelids at him, in a little girl fashion. That usually had an effect on his type of chauvinist male. He glared at her. * Ok, maybe not _quite_ the effect I wanted.*

"I do not think that it is necessary for a library of this size to have its catalogue digitized."

Jenny sighed. "From what I've seen you don't intend for the library to be this size for much longer. It'd be better to get to work on it now and add to it later. Maybe even scan some of the books that the students can use, the ones you only have one copy of?"

"Scan? Skim the knowledge of ages and condense it into a few miserable pixels?"

*Hmmm, he has the terminology down quite well for a technophobe. Like an atheist who knows his biblical quotes.* "Now…Rupert." *Hah, yes, he does writhe just a teensy bit when I use his first name.* "They are handheld scanners, not flatbed, quite nice software to merge the images; your babies will not be hurt. And need not ever be touched again. Think of it, all those wonderful books kept safe from those horrid grubby teenage fingers and their horrendous study habits. No more dog earing, foxing or highlighting or food stains…"

She grinned and he glared. *Am I having fun? Yes I am. He's so incredibly stuffy. Wouldn't know a byte if it bit him on the ass or a demon if it appeared right in front of him. Well, I'll take care of the first and the Hellmouth might do the second if he's unlucky.*

Flutie held up his ineffectual hands. "It is my decision and it is final! Final! The library catalogue gets digitiled and the books get skimmed! Final, I say. Now, both of you shake hands and make up." Both the teacher and the librarian winced at the man's failure to get the terms right.

Rupert glared at the smug young woman before him. * Far too young to be so cocky* She rose and extended her hand, a broad grin on her face. * A lovely face.* He took the hand and to her surprise, and a little bit to his, he bowed over it as he had been taught so many years ago, and held his lips gently above her knuckles, allowing his breath to tickle them ever so slightly and ever so shortly.

"Miss Calendar, I place myself and my library in your hands." He straightened; face carefully calm, looked her in the eye and noted the slight flush and the widened eyes. He bowed again, to both of them. "Miss Calendar, principal Flutie." He turned and left.

"Well now, that is a fine example of old world courtesy. Maybe I ought to get him to teach some etiquette classes." He nodded at the woman. "Carry on Miss Calendar! Carry on!"

Jenny Calendar left the principal's office deep in thought. *Hmmm. Interesting. A more worthy opponent than I had thought. We shall see if he can keep up.* She quickened her step. Maybe her stay in Sunnydale would be less boring and, well nasty, if she could divert her mind.

Buffy came home, seeing the lights on in the living room, expecting her mother to be there, on the couch, the glass of wine that had been far too often present lately at her side, going over the paperwork for the gallery that she was opening. Her mother was not really a business woman. She was a good sales woman, and a good art expert, but the more administrative aspect of the business got her down. Buffy really hoped that it wouldn't worsen the drinking. Her mother was on the couch, was going over the paperwork, but she was also casting little glances at the phone. There was no wine, no glass. There was a pot of tea, Earl grey by the smell of it. And a porcelain cup to hold it. This…was different.

"Oh, Hello Buffy. You're home early."

Buffy shrugged. "Grounded remember?"

Jocye sighed. "Not grounded dear. You just have to be home and in bed by 22.00 on weekdays. And do your homework. And go to classes, I think you'll find that does not qualify as 'grounded' in the vocabulary of most people."

"Yeah, sure mom."

"Willow not here? I wanted to talk with her."

"Her parents are home, she's trying to get them to sign off on her extra course load. Maybe get some dinner."

Joyce shook her head. "How that girl can be so cheerful and lovely with such…such…" Words failed her.

"Yeah mom. It's amazing." Buffy sighed. *Mom probably would have loved a daughter like Willow. Studious, quiet, willing to work hard and thrive under the gentlest of touches. It must be annoying for her to have…well me, with all the Slayer issues and teen angst to deal with.*

"Buffy, sit down." Buffy did as she was told, sitting on the couch, leaving about a foot between herself and her mother. That was her mother's 'we're going to have a serious talk' voice. She wasn't aware what she had done this time, but she'd better sit through it with as much patience as she could muster.

To her surprise she was gathered into a hug and held close. "I love you Buffy. Don't ever doubt that. I love you more than I can say. I hope that one day, when you're a mother; you'll understand why it is so difficult for me to put into words what you mean to me."

"Mom?" Buffy was honestly surprised.

"I might like to think sometimes that it'd be nice if you were a bit more biddable, or a bit more interested in studying, but if you were, you wouldn't be my Buffy, you wouldn't be my little girl. Well, not so little girl." She smiled, stroking Buffy's hair.

Buffy was getting more and more confused. "Mom? What's going on?"

"Remember that psychiatrist Simon said he would get into contact with? His office called to make an appointment."

Buffy blinked, trying to keep her panic under control. "Uhhh… that's great mom." She tried to wriggle out of her mother's embrace, to run upstairs, hide in her room and wig out in peace.

Joyce held her at arms length, hands firmly on Buffy's upper arms. "Yes it is _great_. Buffy, this is one of the best psychologists on the west coast. One of the most famous in the world. He specializes in treating your sort of case. I tried to get him to see you…before… Buffy, if he can help you…"

"Yeah mom, sure. It's great." *And if he fails, do I get to go back to the asylum?*

"Which leads me to what I wanted to talk to Willow about." Joyce deftly changed the subject, realizing that her daughter was not nearly as happy with the appointment as she was.

"What?"

"I need a so-not-a-babysitter for Dawn for Friday next week. That's when the appointment is, I checked with your school and if I pick you up there we can be at his office in time."

"You didn't even ask me!" Buffy was now on the verge of both tears and panic, trying to get away from her mother without hurting her.

"Buffy!" Joyce hauled her back down, knowing since her conversation with Simon what immense fear Buffy had for the institution she and Hank, in their desperation had sent her to. "No matter what, as long as you are mine, you are not going back to Overton!"

Buffy started to tremble. "Promise?"

"Yes love, I promise."

Buffy snuggled into her mother's arms, breathing so fast Joyce almost thought she was hyperventilating. "Okay. You'll be there?"

"Right outside."

"Okay. Promise?"

"Promise."

"DAWN!" The shout disturbed the peace of the Summers household. Joyce sighed, wondering what new wonder of parenting was about to be revealed to her.

"Dawn! Are you using my pom-poms as dresses for your Barbies again?"

There was a muffled reply. "Dawn, if you don't give me my pom-poms right now I'll wake you up with a washcloth every day for a week! With ice cubes in it!"

Joyce grinned. *Well, well. Buffy's taking up cheerleading again. That's good. And she's in a good mood.*

There was a creak as Dawn's door opened and then Buffy thundered down the stairs, a bag in her hand. "Can I run a wash mom?"

"Sure dear. Don't mix the…"

"Colour and the whites." Buffy finished the familiar admonition with a smile and Joyce laughed. "Off with you. I need to go to the gallery. I'll be back early enough to cook dinner."

"Okay, thanks mom. See you later. Buffy waited until her mother had left before entering the utility room. No reason to betray the full reason why she wanted to do an extra wash. She had some vamp-dusted clothing besides her cheerleader costume and she didn't want to explain either. When she heard the front door close she strode up to the washer and stuffed it with her clothes, added the powder and softener and straightened. She froze when she caught sight of the tableau in the sink.

There were bottles in the sink. Quite a few of them, all of them neck down and all of them empty. Buffy stood in the utility room and gazed at the bottles, the bottles her mother had turned to since her marriage had started to collapse. Yesterday there had been the pot of tea. The day before yesterday she had sat with an untouched glass of wine in her hand for half an hour, looking at something in her other hand, what Buffy did not know. Then she had risen, walked into the kitchen and poured the glass of wine into the sink, followed by the half bottle that was left. Buffy had thought the wine had gone sour. Apparently it hadn't. Her mom had gone sour on the wine.

She wasn't quite certain if the development was the best for her as a Slayer, a slightly tipsy Joyce was easier to evade than a fully alert one. But as a daughter who loved her mother it was the best thing that could have happened, just about. She hugged herself, feeling a tear or two run down her face. The daughter easily won over the Slayer.

Buffy walked into the kitchen, seeing her mother trying to open a packing crate with a crowbar while a clipboard balanced on the edge of the kitchen island. She was humming a song Buffy identified as '_It's almost like being in love._' Buffy was almost certain her mother did not know she was doing that.

"We had trials today."

"Great. How did it go? And good afternoon to you too dear." Joyce stopped humming and tried opening the crate once more.

"I didn't actually get to try out. There was an accident."

"Oh dear. I hope nobody was seriously injured?"

"Not too serious. Sooo…What was I trying out for?"

Joyce gave her daughter a panicked look. "The cheerleading squad I assume? I'm sorry is that wrong?"

Buffy blinked. "Err… Yes. I mean no, I mean yes I was trying out for the cheerleading squad."

Joyce sighed, relieved. "I do try to pay attention even when I'm busy, Buffy. And you did ask…well, yell at Dawn to find out where your pom-poms were. Not very hard to put two and two together. I am glad you're picking it up again, you used to love it so much before…" Joyce closed her mouth and looked embarrassed.

Buffy winced inwardly. She'd quit cheerleading before the whole burning down the gym and getting into trouble thing.

"Sorry mom, it's just, you've seemed a bit distracted. And what's all this stuff?" Buffy gestured at the packing crates scattered throughout the kitchen."

"It's for the exhibition on tribal art at the gallery. It's my first major exhibition so I am a bit nervous and I'll admit to distracted." Joyce heaved at the crowbar again, muttering swearwords under her breath as it slipped and splinter worked its way into her finger.

"Language mom!" Buffy said it with a smirk. It was rare she could use that line on her mother.

Joyce gave her daughter the patented Summers women look. "You know it might not physically hurt you to give a hand here."

She turned away from the recalcitrant crate and moved onto the next one. Buffy moved next to the first and easily lifted the nailed down lid off once Joyce was marking and writing on the clip board. Joyce looked up to see Buffy looking into the open crate and smiled. "Thank you."

She opened another box, blinked and shook her head. "Oh dear."

"Hmm?"

"Fertility statue. You don't need to see it." Joyce firmly put the lid back on the crate.

"You know, mom…there's this girl in school, Amy."

"Uhuh?"

"She trains with her mom for like three hours a day. Sounds like she's really into it."

Joyce gave her daughter an exasperated glance. "Sounds like her mom does not have a whole lot to do." It was only then that she noticed Buffy's wistful look. *Oh great, wonderful mother daughter bonding moment gone there Joyce!*

"So why is this stuff here and not in the gallery?" Buffy covered the awkward moment.

Joyce shrugged. "They're working on the displays and such. Doing some last minute painting. I need a bit of peace and quiet to asses this."

She turned back to her cataloguing. Buffy lifted the lid of the fertility idol and peeked. Her eyes widened. "Jeepers." She quickly lowered the lid. A quick look at her mother showed the older woman hiding a smirk. Buffy blushed a little.

"Jeepers indeed. I could use a hand getting _that_ in the car before Dawn comes home."

Buffy grinned. "It might be educational for her."

"There are some parts of your sister's education I'd like to wait with at least a few more years." Joyce said dryly.

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, suppose. Can we do it now? I need to go do some homework."

"Sure." They carried the crate outside into the car, pushing it well against the back seats. Buffy went upstairs to study.

Buffy stood preparing a bagel for breakfast when Joyce came in.

"Look what I found. It's my yearbook from junior year." Buffy watched her mother leaf through a green bound book. "Oh, look! There I am."

She put the book down on the island and poured a cup of coffee. Buffy looked at the picture, smirking a bit. *Not wearing glasses I see, trying to look good for the picture, eh mom?"

"Mom, I've accepted that you've had sex." *Maybe not that you want to have some more…So not going there* "I am not ready to know that you had Farrah hair."

Joyce sniffed with hauteur. "This is Gidget hair. Don't they teach you anything in history?"

"Well, it's really cool, but I gotta book."

Joyce looked at the book. "Well, I was thinking. I know the cheerleading thing didn't work out... Maybe you should think about joining the yearbook staff. I did, it was a lot of fun."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Not really my tip, mom." Buffy reached into the fridge for some fruit.

Joyce looked wistful and a bit embarrassed at the same time. "I was, uh, photo editor. I got to be on every page, made me look much more popular than I was."

Buffy wasn't paying much attention. "And have you seen the kids that do yearbook? Nerds pick on them."

Joyce's stiffened at the thoughtless insult. "Some of the best times I had in school were working

on the yearbook!" Her voice was a touch strained.

Buffy finally looked at her mom." Oh, this just in: I'm not you! I'm into my own thing."

Joyce spoke before thinking, her irritation and pain carrying her along. "Your own thing, whatever it is, got you kicked out of school, and we had to move here to find a decent school that would take you!"

Buffy blinked back tears, grabbed her bag and left.

"Honey! Uhh…" Buffy was out of the door before her mother could finish her sentence.

Joyce rubbed a hand over her eyes, disgusted with herself. "Lovely Joyce. Uhhh!

Great parenting form! Little shaky on the dismount."

Dawn slunk into the kitchen then, her usual cheery morning self, hoisting herself onto a stool. "Ugh. G'morning."

Joyce filled a bowl with yoghurt, cereal and fruit and pushed it and a glass of fresh orange juice across to Dawn. Dawn started eating with single minded intensity. She would perk up after eating and Joyce had long ago given up on getting anything but the most basic responses from the girl beforehand.

Parenting was waayyy more difficult in practice then when they discussed it in college. She wondered if she and her sisters gave her mother so much trouble and then turned to coaxing Dawn in something resembling good humour before unleashing her on an unsuspecting world.

Buffy sat eating lunch with Willow in the cafeteria, Xander being absent for mysterious male reasons to do with shirking third period. They were eating a type of mystery meat that probably was not kosher in many ways. Its taste was the least of its problems.

"You seem a bit out of sorts." Willow said it a bit diffidently. Buffy shrugged.

"Yeah, well I had a few choice words with my mom this morning."

"Really? What about?"

"She told me to find other interests besides cheerleading."

"Well that is not bad is it?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, throwing back a slug of milk. "She had a suggestion. Can you imagine? The yearbook committee, just like she had been."

Willow blinked, she couldn't imagine her mother taking any interest in her extra curricular activities, or any of her activities at all for that matter, let alone make a suggestion. "Why is that bad?"

"Oh come on Wills! Only complete losers who can't do anything else join the Yearbook committee! Like I told mom, Nerds pick on them!"

Willow stiffened, tears appearing in her yes. "Well if you feel that way. That's your opinion of course. You're entitled to your opinion. I'm sure it's a very valuable opinion and that your mother wasn't hurt at all. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll just go and…and do something…something else. I'm not hungry anymore."

Willow left, leaving Buffy blinking after her. "Wills?" She rose but Willow had already left the cafeteria, not even clearing away her tray. Buffy finished her food and cleared both their trays. She fell in beside Xander as the boy stood searching through his locker.

"Heya Xand."

"Buffy, hello."

"Why would Willow wig out about the Yearbook committee?" She crossed her arms and leaned against the locker next to his.

Xander's voice came muffled from within the unknown and unknowable depths of his locker. "She's Yearbook committee president and Photo editor. She's very proud of it. She says it may not be the coolest committee to be on, but many people would be disappointed if it weren't there. I mean, where would the yearbook come from?"

Buffy shrunk in on herself, looking guilty. "Oh…" *Great. Just great. You've hurt mom and your best friend. Now all I've got to do is add Dawnie, Xander and Giles and I'll have the straight flush."

"I've got to find her. Bye." Xander blinked after her disappearing form.

Buffy located Willow in the library after checking the favourite moping area, the girls' restrooms. Giles was conspicuous in his absence, hiding in his office with the door closed. The fact that the petite red head was sniffling and that the occasional tear ran down her face obviously had nothing to do with this. Giles ability to panic around normal teen problems, unlike apocalyptic predictions, was fast becoming a running gag among the Slayer and her friends.

"Wills." Buffy knelt down by her friend and put both her arms around her and hugged her. "Wills I'm so sorry. I'm such a bitch."

Willow sniffled. "I'm sorry, it's just t-that."

"Wills! This is not your fault in any way. I was mean and nasty and rotten. I never considered all the work the Yearbook committee puts into making the yearbook. We all expect it just to be there and be good. We hardly even say thank you."

Willow finally returned the hug. "You going to apologize to your mom? It must have really hurt. She was only trying to help."

"I know it hurt. She actually flew of the handle and told me that us being here is my fault."

"Sorry? What do you mean?"

"You know; the whole burning down the gym thing? Mom moved us here so I could go to a good school, have a life a little more normal than I'd have had if we'd stayed in LA. Gave up her job." Buffy's face scrunched up with guilt and grief, on the verge of tears. "She loved her job."

"Oh, Buffy. I'm sure she feels terrible."

Buffy felt tears running down her face. "Yeah, she does, I saw her face as I left. But it's still true. We're here because of what I did. She gave up everything for me Wills. And I go and hurt her like that. And you. I'm such a bitch."

"Buffy, you're the Slayer. It's not your fault."

"But she doesn't know that Will! She just thinks I'm a disturbed teen. She didn't do it because of some great destiny and horrible fate; she did it because she loves me!"

Willow looked thoughtful. "Well, umm. I still say apologize."

Buffy took a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah I should. I'll do it after school." She looked down at her hands, clasped firmly by Willow. "Wills? Are we okay?"

"Yeah sure, I mean you are an insufferably popular near cheerleader and I'm a poor downtrodden nerd, but yeah." Willow gave Buffy another hug, smiling hugely.

Buffy laughed through her tears. "Thanks Wills. You're the best friend ever."

Joyce was squeezing oranges for juice when Buffy came in dancing, singing and wearing her cheerleader outfit. She'd been home late the previous evening and had hardly seen Buffy, let alone had the chance to talk to her privately. Dawn's customary late rising allowed for such conversations in the morning however, and she intended to take the opportunity.

"Macho, macho, man! I want to be a macho man. Macho... Oh, hey, juice!" Buffy grabbed the glass and downed the juice in a single swallow. "Mm... Quality juice. Not from concentrate!"

Joyce glanced at Buffy a little bewildered. "You're in a good mood."

"I am! I'm on the squad, which is great, 'cause I feel like cheering and leading others to cheer. Ooo, hey, juice!"

Buffy grabbed her mother's glass, draining it and Joyce hastily took hold of Dawn's and placed it on the counter out of Buffy's reach.

Joyce sighed. "Listen, honey, about yesterday, I really..."

"Mm! That is totally yester. Besides, it's not like you were wrong, y'know. I did get kicked outta school. I'm just wacky that way!

Joyce took her daughter's shoulder and pressed her down on a stool." No! Sit down. Buffy what I said…Honey I can't pretend I understand why you did what you did. But I love you. More than I can express. And moving here, it's a small price to pay to see you happy and keep you with me…"

Buffy smiled in a disconcertingly hyper fashion. "Mom, you just don't get it. And, believe me, you don't want it. Y'know, there are just some things about being a Vampire Slayer that the older generation..."

Joyce blinked in shock and surprise. Her hope that this particular delusion was in the past was apparently unfounded. "A what?"

Buffy stopped humming her song, realizing she'd just said a touch more than even her addled brain told her was wise. "It's a... long story."

Joyce was now getting seriously worried. There was an unhealthy glow to Buffy's face, as if she had a fever and a light sheen of perspiration lay on her forehead. "Buffy, are you feeling well?" She tried to feel Buffy's forehead.

Buffy blinked, surprised at her mother's question. She felt awesome. Her mind was totally clear. How could anyone think there was anything wrong? "What? Oh, I'm, I'm fine, y'know? What, like, I can't be in a good mood? Is it, like, a new house rule? Fine, y'know? It's just fine, fine, fine, 'cause..."

Joyce looked on in astonishment as her daughter started singing again, gathering her books and bag and dancing out of the kitchen. "I'm a macho, macho man! I want to be a macho man! Macho, macho man! I want to be a macho man!"

Buffy was picking up bits of smashed alarm clock and putting them in the dustbin when she heard a voice.

"I don't get it."

Buffy looked up surprised as her mother stood in the door of her room. "What?"

"I don't get it. I've been doing a lot of thinking, where you're coming from, how to relate to you. And I've come to a simple conclusion: I don't get it." She sat down next to her daughter.

Buffy gave a small, sad smile. "I'm inscrutable, huh?"

Joyce smiled fondly. "You're sixteen. I think there's a biological imperative whereby I can't understand you because I'm not sixteen." She looked a bit thoughtful. "Which is a bit strange really, after all I was once a sixteen year old girl. I should be able to relate. But I suppose I can't understand because I am not a sixteen year old now." She reached out, cupping her daughter's face. "I can only be your mother."

"Mom, do you ever wish you could be sixteen again?"

Joyce thought for a second and Buffy thought she saw a sad look on her face for a second. She winced, remembering her comments on her mother's work on the Yearbook committee. *Even the nerds look down on them…Yeah, smooth Buffy.*

"Oooh, that's a frightful notion. " Joyce said. "Go through all that again? She glanced at Buffy with some amusement. "No I don't think so. Not even if it would help me understand you better."

Buffy leaned in and kissed her, then rose to leave. Joyce held out a hand and laid it on her arm. "Buffy… I don't have three hours a day to teach you cheerleading." She smiled deprecatingly. "And I would not be much good at it anyway, not nearly as good as you are at it already."

She took deep breath before her daughter could speak. "But that does _not_" She stressed the word emphatically. "Mean that I don't want to spend time with you and Dawn. I need to work too and can not be as available as I might want to be. But I'm here Buffy. I am here for you, I love you. Both of you."

Buffy sat down again, grabbing her mother in a fierce hug, being careful not to use her slayer strength. "Thanks mom." She released Joyce and looked down at the bed. "Mom…I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what dear?"

Buffy blushed a little. "For talking the way I did about the yearbook committee."

Joyce gave her daughter a slightly sad grin. "It was true dear. I was way too nerdy to be popular. Much more 'Willow' than 'Buffy'. Not that there is anything wrong with Willow. She's a lovely girl."

Buffy blushed even more fiercely. "Yeah. Wills is on the Yearbook committee."

Joyce's face lit up in realization. "I take it you talked about our conversation with Willow which led to an interesting revelation of your own?"

"Yeah." Buffy played with the edge of her duvet. "I'm sorry mom. I didn't want to talk you down; you've done so much for me…"

Joyce grabbed her daughter in a hug that had Buffy wondering if Slayer strength might be hereditary after all. "I love you Buffy."

"I love you too mom. I love you so much."

Joyce wiped away a few small tears from her daughter's eyes and did the same to her own, then reached for the tissue box on the bedside table and took one, handing one to Buffy. "So, you going out tonight?"

"Can I mom?" Buffy looked hopeful.

"Yes dear. If you are feeling well?"

Buffy blushed. "Yeah, sorry about this morning mom. I was a bit hyper…"

Joyce looked worried and Buffy knew she had to answer the question her mother was afraid to ask.

"No mom, I'm not doing drugs."

Joyce rubbed her chin. "That's a relief. I see. That leaves lack of sleep or a boy." She decided not to mention the man in the leather jacket who sometimes stood outside her daughter's window gazing upwards. She'd felt an occasional urge to go and ask him in and inquire after his intentions, but that was a bit…Victorian, a bit too much like her parents. Buffy would tell her when she was ready.

Buffy blushed. "Mom!"

Joyce sighed, just a touch disappointed. "Not a boy then?"

Buffy shook her head. "No." She looked up, hope in her eyes. "So I can really go out?"

Joyce smiled. "Yes dear. Just don't be in too late and please let me know you come in. I worry." She sighed. "Overworry probably."

Buffy's mouth twitched. "Possibly a bit. The whole 'learning to say no thing…'You had me thinking I was going to be grounded for life."

Joyce sighed. "Sorry Buffy, parental over reaction. But you have to realize when the principal called…" She looked at her daughter beseechingly.

Buffy hugged her mother again. "I do. I'll be good. I love you mom. I'm gonna go out, Xander and Wills can pick me up."

Joyce sighed. "Can you see if you can convince Willow to go shopping with us? That girl needs a new wardrobe."

Buffy giggled. "I'll do my best mom. But her mother buys her clothes."

"Poor Willow." She looked down at herself. "But at least I can encourage her from a fellow nerd's perspective."

Buffy smiled. "Well, you have to dress up a bit too, if you want to land a hunk of man."

Joyce rolled her eyes. "Now stop that. It is bad enough Dawn keeps asking me when Simon will come by again. I don't need you on my case as well!"

"Okay mom. See you later."

"Later honey. Have fun!"

Joyce picked up the dustbin and picked the final pieces of alarm clock of the floor and the bedside table. "But I still don't get it."


	2. Chapter 2

**Reviews are appreciated**

Chapter 2: Revelations and consultations

Buffy was looking at the broiled chicken on her plate as if it had committed a major crime. The crisp greens got an equally unfavourable look. Only the fried potatoes, made from the leftovers of the day before, seemed to carry her grudging approval.

"Something wrong with the food, Buffy?"

"No mom, just thinking about school."

"Anything serious?"

Buffy smiled a little. "Just teen angst."

"Even angsty teens need to eat, you are a growing girl." Joyce said it with an understanding smile.

Buffy sighed and started eating. "Yeah I know."

"You know I was once an angsty teen? I'm here if you need me Buffy."

Buffy smiled. "Thanks mom."

Dawn had been eating her chicken with singular intensity, hoping this would mean her mother would ignore her leaving the vegetables. Joyce looked at the green beans with lifted eyebrows and Dawn started eating them as well, but not until after she let out a put upon sigh.

They ate in silence for a minute; then Joyce turned to Dawn.

"So, how was school?"

''S okay."

"Nothing happened?"

"No."

"No fights?"

"No."

"No bullying?"

"No."

"Nothing at all?"

"Miss Mellowes still wants to meet Simon." Dawn glared at her mother reproachfully; then went back to eating.

Joyce flushed despite herself. This was the first reference that Dawn had made to Simon in two weeks. She had gently discouraged her daughter's enquiries about him in the first week. Since then Dawn had been silent about the subject, but now she dropped her bomb.

Buffy smirked at her mother. Joyce looked down at her plate. She sighed, toying with her food. After a while, when the girls were finished, she looked up again. "Why don't you go out and play with Janice, Dawnie. Buffy, you can go out if you want. I'll clean up."

Dawn nodded and went out to play. Buffy stayed behind, helping her mother clear the table, pointedly emptying most of her mother's left over food into a freezer box and then crossed her arms. The longest conversation about their unexpected visitor had been when a Dr Ovrion's assistant had called two days after the impromptu visit to set an appointment, to take place this coming Friday.

"He hasn't called?"

"He won't." Joyce was bent over, loading the dishwasher.

"He looked like he would." Buffy toyed with her hair. She was honestly surprised. He really had looked as if he would call.

"I said I'd call him when I was ready." Buffy nodded, realizing the problem lay on the other side of the equation.

"So, call."

"It's too soon."

"Mom…"

"No, Buffy. It is too soon. Please?"

Buffy noticed the tears falling onto the dirty dishes, placed a gentle hand on her mothers shoulder and whispered. "Okay mom, whatever you say."

She went outside, to report to Giles and patrol. Maybe meet with Wills and Xander later. Plenty to do in Sunnydale, even on a Tuesday night. And she really had to talk to Giles before talking to a shrink.

Rupert Giles was stacking books in the library. Every day a parcel of books arrived to support the research necessary to enable to proper functioning of the Slayer. It was a pity she had not been identified before her inheritance of the powers of the Slayer. It would have made his life a lot easier if she had been trained from an earlier age to accept her responsibilities. Maybe then she would actually be interested in research. And maybe a bit more…biddable.

He sighed and pushed his glasses further up his nose as he looked at the spine of a rebound edition of the _Chronicle of the Covens of Warwickshire_. A thoroughly boring work written and privately published in the late nineteen seventies to describe the neo pagans of Warwickshire. Sometimes the Council was a little too thorough in the collection of arcane literature. There was a knock at the window and he looked to see Buffy hoisting herself into the library. A thin blade disappeared into her jeans as she stepped onto the floor. He sighed. He did not know where she had learned to break in but it worried him.

"Buffy? What are you doing here? Is there anything wrong? And why did you enter through the window?" He placed the pile of books on the table.

She did not look at him but stared at the floor. "Can we talk?'

"Certainly. Meet anything while patrolling?"

"No, this is personal."

"I see. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Water please."

He nodded and went outside to the watercooler, getting two cups full of water, then sat at the table opposite Buffy and handed her one of the cups. He took a sip and looked at his Slayer as she sat hunched and worried at her lower lip with her teeth.

"Giles, what do you know about me before I came here?"

Giles took a sip of his water. "John Merrick left an excellent journal."

Buffy smiled wanly. "He would. But that would end before, you know…"

"Before his suicide. Yes." He reached across the table and squeezed one small cold hand. "That was his choice, and it was the right choice Buffy. He did it for you, but also for himself. I knew John; he hated the thought of becoming a vampire."

"Yeah. I suppose. But do you know what happened after?"

"You killed Lothos, set fire to a gym and ran away. The Council has very little information on that period; Lothos rather effectively eliminated our network, or at least their ability to report."

"I almost went to jail, my parents sent me to a psychiatric clinic and I have a juvenile record."

Giles nodded slowly. "I had heard something like that yes, the Council tried to have the records sealed and expunged but it was too late, too many people know about it and the act was too public for plausible deniability."

Buffy took a deep breath. "I need to be psychologically evaluated for juvenile court. Mom talked about me with Simon, you know the guy we talked about?"

Giles took off his glasses. "The gentleman with the scones? You mentioned him but I am surprised your mother would talk to him about something so private after having only just met him." He took out his handkerchief and started polishing the glasses.

"Yeah well, he's easy to talk too." She took an even deeper breath. "She told him I believed I was the Slayer and now he's arranged for me to go and see a psychiatrist, a Dr Ovrion. And he told me to tell him everything. I'm seeing him on Friday afternoon."

Giles sipped his water. Then he took of his glasses and rubbed them carefully. "The Watchers have tried to get your record cleared, and failed. Our contact in the judicial system was killed by Lothos' minions. That means you will have to go through the whole process. You will need a good psychiatrist. I have heard of Ovrion. He may be just blind enough to be what we need."

Buffy glared at him. "What do you mean?"

Giles shrugged, putting his glasses back on. "He holds certain theories which will allow him to explain away your behaviour. Probably in such away as to get you of the hook, as you Americans put it."

Buffy took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll talk his leg off then." She rose and made for the window. Giles walked up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. He felt her stiffen.

"Buffy, I and the Council will do whatever is needed to help. You are the Slayer. It is our Duty."

She turned and looked at him. "Yeah. That worked really well last time, when I was getting the _One flew over the Cuckoo's nest_ treatment." She dashed a few tears from her eyes with the back of her hand and moved his hand from her shoulder. "I'm going on patrol. I'll see you tomorrow."

She was out of the window before he could stop her. Giles looked after her disappearing form, worry in his gentle eyes.

The library at Sunnydale High was the unofficial head quarters of the fearless vampire slayers known as the Slayerettes. It was currently occupied by all of the slayerettes, though Giles rolled his eyes at the designation.

Willow looked at her friend. "Sooo. What do you think is going to happen with your mom and Dr Mayer? Has he called yet?"

"God, I don't know. And no, he hasn't." Buffy fell into the chair in the library she had claimed as her own.

Xander threw in a line from behind a bookcase where he was pretending to read a hefty tome. "He seemed like a good guy"

Buffy sighed. "Yeah, I suppose. I'm just afraid you know, he's just using Dawnie to get close to her and then dump her after a bit. I think mom's afraid of that too."

Willow shrugged. "He doesn't seem the type to go wham bam thank you ma'am." The red head suddenly blushed furiously, burying her face in her arms. The tips of her bright red ears were visible above her mauve sweater. Buffy swore she could hear a slight 'Eep' coming from her mortified friend.

Xander giggled. Giles stuck a head round from the bookcase he was behind and looked in astonishment at the girl. Buffy grinned. "Why Willow. I didn't know you had it in you."

When Willow had recovered enough from her embarrassment to emerge from her arms Buffy frowned thoughtfully. "Well anyway, mom told me that he said he'd like to date, but would wait until she was ready. Let her call him. She hasn't called him yet."

Willow blinked. "Oh. That's a pity. He seemed nice."

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, and if she waits too long he may go like poof!" She gestured in the air. "History."

Willow's eyes widened. She clapped her hands and raised her voice in an excited squeak. "History! That's it!"

Xander stepped from behind the bookcase he was behind, accidentally dropping the magazine he had hidden in the book he was supposedly reading. "Is what Will?"

"History! That's where I know him from!" She dove into her bag and came up with her copy of the American history textbook they were studying. She moved into the early chapters, running her fingers down the pages. "Look here! The early history of New York! Settled by the Dutch." A series of small reproductions of woodcuts and portraits were set on the opposing page, marked _A selection of the Patroons of New Netherlands colony. _In the upper right hand corner was a well executed portrait of a man in black clothing with a white lace collar, black haired and dark eyed, a strong Greek nose and a stubborn expression. A subscript read: _Simon Hendrick Coenraad Meier IV painted in 1621, four years before his departure for New Amsterdam._

Buffy blinked. "Wow. That looks just like him. Except for the mole I think."

Willow nodded enthusiastically, sitting at the library computer. "We can look and see if they are like, related and stuff."

The slight red head tapped the keys furiously. As she was working, a thick leather bound book was placed gently on the table beside Buffy. Giles smiled at them triumphantly, opening the volume. The title page, showing a coat of arms, read: _Of Service to the nation: A history of the Meier family of New York, from its beginnings until the present day._ By Charles M. Andrews. Buffy noted the publication date, 1925.

"Holy shit." Xander was awed. "His family's got a book written about it."

Buffy leafed through the book, showing various houses, photographs of etchings, engravings, paintings, of generations of Meiers and there wives and relations. A large fold out family tree at the back had been added to by an unknown if neat hand: born 08-22-1944 Simon Hendrick Coenraad Meier XV, To Simon XIV and Elizabeth Alice van Rensselaer.

Willow touched the book in awe. "Coolness…"

She turned back to the computer and tucked her left leg under the right, and started searching in earnest.

Buffy, Giles and Xander leafed through the book as she worked. An excited 'Squee!' erupted from Willow. "Bingo!"

"What you got Wills?" Xander was the first beside her. "Meier Investments. Private equity firm for the Meier family, led by Simon Hendrick Coenraad Meier XV, chairman and CEO. No other share holders or investors listed. Also the Meier family trust, Meier Public Library on Staten Island, Meier wing of the Great Ormond street hospital, LA General Hospital, Calvary Hospital in New York… Meier buildings at Dartmouth College, William and Mary, Harvard, MIT Meier laboratories, UC Berkeley, Meier Hall at Somerville College in Oxford, wow there's like a huge list!"

Buffy sighed. "Yeah, but is it him?"

Willow looked smug. She pointed at a grainy picture of Simon inset into a far larger one of Cyndi Crawford. "New York Daily News: Dr Simon Meier, reclusive CEO and last member of one of New York's oldest and wealthiest families refused to comment on the rumor that he was dating super model Cyndi Crawford. Miss Crawford stated that he was one hell of a man." She spoke the subscript with a certain salacious fascination

"Okay… not the sort of thing I want mom to know about." Willow proudly pointed at another picture of Simon, standing talking to the Governor and Mayor of New York. "Ta-da! There's Simon again!"

The subscript from the New York Times local edition read: _At the rededication ceremony of the Museum of New York history, Dr Simon Meier, last scion of one of New York's oldest families speaks with the Governor and Mayor under the newly restored Meier dome. Dr Meier funded the entire restoration of the Cupola, dome, hall and the Meier wing of the building_.

Xander whistled "Serious money. Really serious money."

Giles gasped. "Good lord. I've met him. He lent the museum several artifacts from his personal collection for a special exhibition on ancient Egypt and its diplomatic relations. He wanted to visit the depot and spend quite some time digging through the stacks with us."

Buffy groaned. "Okay, this just went really, really weird. Why would a man with that much money want to date my mom?"

Xander raised his left shoulder. "Well, she's a real nice lady." Then he blushed.

Willow nodded quickly in agreement. "Xan's right Buffy. Your mom is really nice. I mean, maybe if he has been stalked by women like Cyndi Crawford he might like a nice woman?"

Buffy glared at the screen darkly. "I'm beginning to understand why she doesn't call him. Sheesh. Nice woman indeed."

The following Friday Marcel Ovrion looked up at the sound of a knock on his office door. He called for his last visitor of the day to enter and the door opened softly. The slight girl who came in was obviously scared out of her mind. She had been crying, but not very recently. She wore no make up, probably fearing the make up would show signs of crying more clearly, she wore a white top, blue stonewashed jeans, and low white flat sandals. Honey blond hair, hanging loose about her shoulders framed a gorgeous oval face with soft, pouty lips and a slightly upturned nose; large blue green eyes looked at him dark with distrust and fear.

"Dr Ovrion?" Her voice was soft and controlled, vibrant. He rose and extended a hand, shaking hers as she held it out.

"I am Marcel Ovrion. I assume you are Miss Summers?" He had a slight accent, a touch of French.

"Yes." He gestured at the comfortable chairs in one corner and the couch and chair in the other." "Please have a seat wherever you like. Coffee? Tea? Soda?"

"Can I have a coke?"

"Certainly." He walked to the fridge in the corner and removed an already broached two liter bottle from which he filled a large glass, placing it next to her chair on a small table. He could feel her gaze on him as he did so. "There you go."

Buffy observed the psychiatrist. He was small, about 5 foot 6 or 7, dark haired, quick of movement, like a bird, with large expressive brown eyes and a swarthy face. He was balding slightly and going a little bit grey at the temples. His face was kindly and lined with laughter. He wore a pair of jeans, a navy jacket, black oxfords and a high necked sweater. He poured a cup of coffee for himself and placed it on his own side table.

He took a large yellow legal pad from his desk, about halfway used, all the used pages carefully removed, and seated himself in one of the comfortable chairs, crossing his legs and placing the pad on his knee, reached into his pocket and retrieved a translucent throwaway ballpoint pen. He tested it on an edge of the pad and smiled at her reassuringly.

"So tell me why you are here."

"I don't want to go back to an institution."

"I can understand that. Why did they send you there?"

"I needed to be assessed and treated or I would have been placed under care."

He made a note on the fresh sheet of the pad.

"I see. Why do you need to be treated?"

"Didn't you read my file?"

"No actually. I never read other peoples' opinion on a patient before I have formed my own."

Buffy blinked, surprised. "Oh."

She looked at him. The look seemed to be him calculating the effect her next remark was going to have. "I set fire to a school gym. Burned it down."

"I see. Did you have a reason for that?" He made another note on his pad.

"There was a powerful vampire inside, with its followers." *And there's the look: hello wacky valley girl, want to have some Prozac?*

"A vampire? I see. Was there a reason why you felt _you_ had to burn the place down?"

"I thought I was the Slayer."

"And what is the Slayer?"

"A chosen one, born once per generation, to destroy vampires and other demons."

"Indeed? And you did this all by yourself? You had no help?"

"I had a friend, a guy called Pike."

"I see. Anyone else?"

"A man named John Merrick. He was my Watcher."

"What is a watcher? And you said was?"

"Someone who trains and aids the Slayer. He killed himself, shot himself, rather than being turned into a vampire and betraying me."

The doctor made a note on his pad.

Do you still believe you are this Slayer?"

She swallowed convulsively. "Yes."

"Good."

She blinked. "What?"

"Would you mind lifting my desk?"

Buffy gaped at him. "What?"

"The Slayer, as far as I know, has strength, resilience and speed, far, far greater than that of normal girls."

"You believe me?" Her eyes were wide and her mouth opened and closed like a fish.

He threw his pen at her and she caught it in mid air, a reflex action, yet faster than humanly possible. He smiled. "I will if you can lift my desk singlehanded. It's quite heavy."

Buffy rose, handing him his pen, then walked to the desk and knelt below it, lifting it, with some difficulty, as she rose, grunting. "Is this thing made of lead?"

"Nineteenth century walnut and oak. Could you move it a few inches to your right? The sun hits the desk just in the wrong place this time of year." He rose to help guide the massive thing.

She glared at him but moved the desk the requested few inches, lowered it carefully and moved from underneath. The psychologist handed her the cola. She drank, looking at him over the rim of her glass as he took of his jacket and sat back down.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Why did you believe me?"

In answer he pulled his sweater down, revealing a faded but easily recognizable scar, obviously left by a vampire's bite. Buffy's eyes widened.

"My practice consists for a quite considerable part of those who have survived demonic attacks of various kinds. I help them adjust to life in a society where there is no belief in such things and yet they know it to be truth. I am a recognized authority on the subject." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"So you can help me?"

"I will do my utmost. When did all this take place? I assume there was a rash of strange deaths and disappearances associated with this vampire's appearance?"

"Last year, 1996."

He rose and walked towards the computer on the smaller desk in the corner. "My name is Marcel by the way." He threw the sentence at her over his shoulder.

He tapped at the keyboard for a few minutes. Reading the reports and newspaper articles he found with interest. He asked the occasional question which Buffy answered to the best of her ability, and he apparently had access to closed files and police and fire department reports. He smiled at what he saw. "Oh this is going to be a beautiful work of fiction."

"Sorry?"

"Did you know that the gym you set on fire was found to have been extremely hazardous? Heating oil in the basement, highly flammable and hot burning building components. If I wanted to build an incinerator, it would have been this gym."

Buffy looked at him as if he was mad.

"Add to that the fact that your little…caper coincides with a dramatic decrease in the frequency of attacks and disappearances."

"Yes? Duh, I burned the master vamp."

"So I get to write a classic Loudun syndrome case, with the added advantage that you did not just run from the perpetrator but actually managed to deal with them. Of course without identities and physical remains they can hardly prosecute you for murder. Not to mention that they will not want to, because that would merely show the massive incompetence of the DA's office, the police and the fire department."

Buffy very slowly stood up, her fists balling at her sides. "You're going to write me up as a murderer?"

"Indeed, not, I shall merely include some inferences from available evidence. The DA can hardly take action on such nebulous conclusions, though he may privately agree."

"And how are you going to explain to mom that I kept talking about Vampires?"

"As I said, Loudun syndrome."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Hellooo! High school girl here. Not really up on psycho babble."

Marcel smiled. "Loudun syndrome is a catch all for the psychological reaction to certain cases of violence that leave a person so emotionally scarred the can only think of the perpetrators as demons."

Buffy looked at him thoughtfully. "But I have no, you know, physical signs of being harmed."

"Violence need not be physical. Threats and bearing witness to acts of violence can be equally harmful to the psyche."

"Sooo… I was so freaked out by these guys that I felt the need to burn them to death?"

Marcel shrugged. "Possibly, possibly they were so scared by your reaction that they fled. Aggressive action is not the most typical reaction of Loudun syndrome, mostly apathy and depression, feelings of helplessness. But strong personalities may strike back, even at things they consider to be indestructible. I call that the "Mother superior" or Alpha personality reaction. You obviously have a very strong Alpha personality." He winked at her.

Buffy smiled at him. "That may just be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

He bowed his head. "I do my best. I would like for you to visit a rape clinic however, it will look better in the report. More complete if we have definite proof there was no sexual violation." He looked at her with concern in his eyes. "There wasn't was there?"

Buffy scowled, shaking her head. "Ugh. Do I have to?"

"Have to, no. But it would cover the physical aspects. And Vampire and other demonic attacks do often have sexual undertones at the very least. Loudun syndrome does as well" His face hardened as he said it.

She sighed. "Yeah, okay, whatever. Where do I go?"

"My wife is the director of a woman's clinic. I will ask her to deal with it personally."

"Is she, you know, um…"

"She was almost raped and sacrificed by three Askroth demons when she was fifteen. She is fully aware of the supernatural world."

Buffy's eyes opened very wide. "And she runs a rape clinic?"

"Margaret… Let's say Margaret will always give her all."

"Wow. Well okay, when do I go there?"

"I'll have Frankie make an appointment for this afternoon. I'll just go ask her." He rose and stepped out the office. Buffy could hear a very softly whispered conversation.

"I'm going to have to invite your parents as well, to discuss the institutionalization. Which clinic did you get sent to?"

"Overton House. My mom's outside in the waiting room. Dad is…somewhere else."

Marcel made a moue. "Expensive, but not my first choice. A pity I did not get to see you before."

"Mom tried, but the case was refused."

She saw his fingers tighten on the cup. "Mon Dieu… Je suis desolé."

Buffy blinked trying to translate in her head. "Err. You are abandoned by your God?"

Marcel smiled. "Sorry, I was born in Quebec, I fall into my mother tongue when I'm emotional. It means, I'm devastated, desperately sorry."

Buffy kept her face straight. "French is your mother tongue You don't say."

Marcel grinned. "Do I make fun of your valley girl lilt? But I really am sorry."

"It wasn't your fault."

"That is very forgiving of you." He looked at her pensively. "So how did you end up in my office? It is very rare a case is reconsidered by my staff, especially a relatively new case such as yours." He walked to his desk and flipped the elastic of the file. A bright red sheet of paper was visible, and Buffy thought she could read Urgent and priority at the top. "Referred by Meier. You've been in contact with the local Meier House?"

"Meier house? What's that?"

"The official name is Meier House for Troubled Youths. Private foster home if you will. But I assume from your question that you didn't know about it."

"No, a Dr. Simon Meier promised my mom he'd get me an appointment with you. I don't know about this Meier House."

He stood stock still, his bird like fluttery movements halted. "Simon? Simon Meier? Might I inquire how your mom got to know him?"

Buffy shrugged. "His car broke down in front of our house, she fed him tea, and they got talking. She let slip I believed I was the Slayer. He promised to intercede on my behalf."

She suddenly looked at Marcel with a very intent look in his eye. "He knows about vamps doesn't he? And the Slayer."

Marcel smiled, highly amused. He sat down, sipping at his coffee. "Ah, the infamous Sunnydale caper. I should have known. Simon? I would think he knows about vampires, yes."

"So, is he a good guy?"

"Well he helps a lot of people. He funds the Meier houses for one."

"No I mean, he was really nice to talk to, but is he a secret drinker, or sadist or wife beater or something?"

"Simon? I can not imagine him doing anything like that. And as for wife beating, he's unmarried. Never been either"

"Lots of girlfriends all over the world?"

Marcel sighed. "Buffy, you've met him. He got you an appointment with me at very short notice. Not an easy task. Is there a reason you are looking for faults in him?" He sipped his coffee.

"Well duh, he wants to date my mom."

Marcel sprayed his coffee so far into the room it almost hit Buffy. "SIMON? DATE?"

Buffy had reared back in her chair at the spit take and the roar. "Well yes, he asked if he could you know, date her, when she felt ready."

"Simon asked your mother out on a date?"

"Yes." She glared at his incredulous expression. "What, you think my mom is not good enough for him?"

"I wouldn't know. It's just…I've known Simon for more than thirty years, he hasn't been on a date for at least twenty five."

Buffy gawped. "Never? Not even with Cyndi Crawford?"

Marcel nodded solemnly. "Never. Hence my surprise. He refers to Miss Crawford as 'that dreadful gold digger' by the way."

Buffy smiled. Then her face clouded up. "Ummm. Why not? Date I mean."

Marcel rubbed his nose. "As both his friend, and he doesn't have many, and his psychiatrist, I can't answer those questions. You'll have to ask him yourself."

Buffy's mouth quirked. "Shouldn't go to you for gossip?"

Marcel's own mouth quirked in answer. "No. And I would appreciate you not telling your mother about this…Or letting Simon know I let it slip." Buffy nodded. Doctor patient confidentiality travelled both ways in this case.

He sat back, ending that line of conversation, looking ruefully at his carpet. "Well I suppose I can get a throw rug."

Buffy laughed. "So, where do we go from here?"

Marcel shrugged. "Well it seems to me that if anyone can do with a psychologist it would be the Slayer. So why don't I have you put on monthly repeat and if you feel more or less need to talk, we can alter that. I'll also give you my phone number in case of emergencies."

"Thanks. And umm, that report about me to the Juvie court?" She looked almost as scared as she had when she first came in.

"I'll tell them your case is intricate and will demand a number of sessions. Considering my reputation they'll grant the extension. We'll write them a nice little story. I doubt they'll give you much trouble once I'm done."

Her smile lit up the room. "Thanks. Really, really, really thanks."

He smiled in return. "A small repayment for all the good you have done and will do." His desk phone rang and he lifted an eyebrow, rose and picked it up. "Ovrion."

He relaxed, his face lighting up. "Oh, hello love. Yes, I'm done with her, final appointment of the day. I'll send her over, if she and her mother agree." He looked a question at Buffy, who shrugged.

"Let's get it over with."

"Very well, I'll have Frankie call you if it's good. Call you on this number when I'm home? Very good, see you soon love."

"Do you want your mother to know the truth?"

Buffy looked panicky. "No! I mean, last time I told her I got locked up!"

He nodded understandingly. "Very well. I'll go fetch her and send you to Margaret."

He left the office again, stepping through Frankie's room, entering the waiting room. "Ms Summers?"

Joyce rose, clad in an elegant grey pants suit, her short wavy blonde hair seemed to be lit with flames and shine like a halo in the afternoon sun. Marcel looked at the smooth oval face, the large, intelligent beautiful blue-green eyes and the strong, even features. A woman to be reckoned with. "Dr Ovrion?" A warm, strong voice. Yes, he could see Simon's point.

"Yes. Would you step through to the office with me?"

"Certainly." She followed him, looking composed, but he could see the slight worry in the tension around her eyes and the way she clasped her purse.

Marcel carried one of the chairs from the other side of the room and held it as Joyce sat. "Ms Summers, I can put your fears at rest. After even a very short evaluation it is clear to me Buffy is suffering from a variant of Loudun syndrome. It is entirely treatable, and in most cases medication is not needed at all. She will be able to lead a normal life after Post traumatic stress treatment, but I would advise monthly sessions for the foreseeable future. I will ask for an extension from the Juvenile court. I have no doubt it will be granted."

He smiled encouragingly at both women as Joyce sighed in relief. "Thank you. Loudun syndrome, as in _The Devils of Loudun_?"

Marcel smiled. "Yes indeed."

Joyce shook herself. "That is the reason I tried to get Buffy treated by you in the first place. I thought it might be, I knew that if you treated her, you could help."

The doctor looked at her askance. "Really? Not many outside the profession know about it." He grimaced. "At least not by that name."

Joyce shrugged, her mouth quirking. "I think they gave it a different name on Dr Phil." Marcel winced. Joyce quirky mouth turned into a real smile.

"I read about Loudun syndrome in the _American Journal of Psychiatry_, and then I looked for your work, including your thesis and undergraduate work and the articles in the _American Journal of Psychology_ and it just clicked after talking to Buffy."

"You read professional journals?" He seemed interested.

"I minored in psychology; I try to keep up to date."

Buffy spoke, wide eyed. "Whoa! Time out. You minored in psychology?"

Joyce gave her daughter an exasperated look. "Yes dear. All the psychology journals and books in the house might have made that clear."

"Oh. Yeah. And the weird psychobabble. Umm. Sorry. I just, sort of you know, all the arts books are more prominent and…ummm."

Joyce reached over and ruffled her hair. Buffy underwent it meekly and Joyce spoke teasingly. "Don't worry Buffy, developmental psychology shows you are right on schedule with your disinterest in your parents' lives."

Buffy stuck out her tongue and could swear that Marcel stifled a snigger. "Well I will feel free to bury you in psychobabble then. I will avoid it around Buffy." He seemed to wink at her.

Buffy restrained the urge to stick out her tongue at him. There were after all, limits.

Marcel continued in a more serious tone of voice. "There are however some things I feel are necessary."

Joyce straightened her back. "What? I'll do anything."

"Firstly I would like if you could drive Buffy over to see Dr Margaret Lawson over at the Lawson Women's clinic. She's a specialist in rape and abuse cases. I feel we need her testimony to properly compose the report. Buffy has already agreed and wants to get it over with and Dr Lawson has agreed to make time for her this afternoon."

Joyce looked at him shrewdly. "So _that_ is what Margaret does. Very well, if Buffy agrees, we'll go there this afternoon. I do need to call the babysitter though."

Buffy sniggered. "I am so going to tell Dawn you called her a baby."

Joyce gave her eldest daughter a humorous repressive look. "Don't you dare."

Marcel gave Joyce a strange look. "You know Margaret?"

Joyce shrugged. "Simon mentioned both of you. I have a good memory for names."

Marcel nodded, smiling. "Indeed. Well I'd also like you to visit me together with Buffy. You can set an appointment date with Frankie, I'd prefer a date in the very near future, before Buffy and I meet alone again." He hesitated. "It would be wise to include Buffy's father as well."

Joyce nodded thoughtfully, looking at her daughter; then at her own hands, which tightened slightly around each other. "Yes, of course. I will leave Hank's address and phone number. "

Marcel nodded. "Good." He walked over to his desk and fished in a drawer until he came up with a small business card. "This is the address of the Women's clinic. Do you know how to get there?"

Joyce took the card and read the address. "Yes, yes I do." She rose and extended a hand to the doctor, who shook it. "Thank you."

He bowed. "You are welcome."

Buffy made her own goodbyes; then drew her planner to pick a date for the appointment with Joyce. It was set for two weeks hence, again at the end of the day. They heard Frankie confirm their appointment at the clinic as they left. They walked down to the car in companionable silence.

"He seems like a very nice man." Joyce said as they drove off towards the Women's clinic.

"Yes. He was quite upset that my case was not referred to him. I assume whoever sifts through them is going to be in trouble."

"Good." Joyce sounded positively vindictive. Buffy stared at her in surprise.

"Mom?"

"We'll talk about it next time dear. I promise. Dr Ovrion is right; we should not talk about it without him."

"Hmm. He's got a cute accent."

"Yes."

"Not as cute as Simon's" Buffy looked slyly at her mother. "Simon's butt is better too."

Joyce blushed. "Buffy! really!"

"Mom, you smiled and laughed more since the day he was there than in the entire time since the divorce. Hell, you smiled and laughed more than in the final year with dad!" Buffy now glared at her mother.

"It's too soon. And mind your language."

"Mom, you and dad had nothing left even before I got into trouble. Even I can see that. Hell, even Dawnie knew!"

"Buffy, language!"

"Yeah, yeah. Look the divorce came through months ago, you separated before that, the closest you got to dad in the year before was when you slapped his face when he said he hoped you wouldn't screw up Dawnie as well as me."

Joyce's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "You heard that?" She whispered the words painfully.

"Me and Dawn both. He wasn't exactly whispering. Damn it mom! Why do you think we both wanted to go with you? Dad can be insensitive jerk."

"Buffy, where did you learn to speak like that? And you know your father loves you both. He really does."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Daytime TV. Mom. And dad may love us, but he sometimes has a weird way of showing it. Dawn and I will not mind you dating Simon. Dawn wants to know if he can come by and help with her homework again. He was good to talk to. We like him mom. Don't hold back on our account."

Joyce's thumbs ran up and down the wheel. "You only met him once."

"So, bring him over after or before the date. We can meet him again."

"He may not be right for me…"

"Mom, hello! Rich dude of New York's First Families? Handsome, muscled, kind. Funny. Charming. Likes kids. Are you maybe, like putting the bar a bit too high? And also, you've like been staring into the blue with that little smile on your face and I know what that means! You got the shivers for a certain Simon."

Joyce glared at her daughter. "How did you know about the First Family thing? And the rich? And I do not have the shivers."

"American history. Willow remembered seeing a photo of a picture of one of his ancestors and we asked mister Giles and he found an actual book about his family. An actual book! And he's got his own company. Willow found it online. And you do so have the shivers." Buffy shrugged. Then she hummed the first bars of _It's almost like being in love_.

Joyce stared straight ahead, blushing. "I may not be right for him. I mean, rich, handsome, muscled, kind, funny, what would he want with me?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Jeesh. He asked you. Look just call him, make the date. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work."

"And if it does?" Joyce looked at her daughter.

Buffy grinned wickedly. "I'll use my step-daughterly wiles to get myself a Porsche."

Joyce laughed despite herself. "Oh, you!"

The rest of the drive was spent talking about what colour the Porsche would have to be. And whether it would have leather upholstery or not. It was going to be red with apple green leather, Buffy decided.


	3. Chapter 3

**Reviews are Welcome**

Chapter 3: Many-fingered Aurora

Dawn Summers snuck into her mother's bedroom guiltily. She stealthily moved to her mother's bedside table and opened the drawer, removing a small business card of thick, high quality paper. A bold hand had written a telephone number under the printed name and the words, underlined twice, 'Call me.' If her mom was not going to do it, she would. She closed the door. Buffy's friend Willow was downstairs, making her own homework; Dawn was supposed to be in the bathroom. She took a deep breath, picked up the extension by her mother's bed and dialed a number.

"Office of Dr. Meier. Patricia Eglemore speaking." The voice was severe but warm, with no trace of regional accent.

"H-hello. This is Dawn Summers. Can I speak with Sim… Dr Mayer, please?" Dawn's voice squeaked. She closed her eyes. Oh this was going just wonderful. She had not expected to get a secretary!

"Did you say Dawn Summers?" An ever so gentle tone of amusement seemed to be present in the lady's voice. It stressed her first name ever so slightly.

"Yes." Dawn said it as firmly as she could, trying to make her voice sound older.

"The young lady of the capital cities of Europe?" The voice was not only amused but interested.

Dawn blinked. "Errr. Yes. Uh, I shouldn't have called.."

"No please, hold. I'll see if he's available."

Dawn nodded numbly; a reflex reaction even if she knew the woman at the other end could not see her. "Okay. Thank you."

Simon Meier was reading through a report on the effects of El Niño on the fishing fleets of Pacific Fishing Co. when his phone rang. He picked up and heard Pat speaking. "Simon, there's a young lady for you on the phone." There was amusement in her voice.

Simon sighed. "How did she get this number? Damn that Crawford woman. She's tenacious, I'll give her that."

Pat laughed softly. "She probably got it from her mother. This is your homework partner."

"Dawn?" She could hear the delighted amazement in his voice. "Put her through. Oh and Pat, reverse the charges, I don't want to get her in trouble with her mother."

"And you think she won't be when her mother finds out she's calling you?" Her tone was amused.

Simon laughed. "Put her through Pat."

Pat broke her connection with Simon and got back Dawn. "Miss Summers? I'll put you through to Dr Meier now."

Dawn swallowed convulsively. This plan had seemed way better before it actually had a chance of succeeding. She heard a click on the line and a warm male baritone spoke to her. "Dawn? Are you there?"

"Yes. Umm. Sorry for calling you, but mom wasn't going to."

"And how did you know she wasn't waiting for me to call her as well?"

He sounded honestly curious.

"I heard you talk about dating when I was upstairs getting my homework."

He laughed. "Eavesdropping Dawnie?"

"No! I just heard. Honest."

"I see. And may I ask why you are calling me?"

Dawn cleared her throat. "I was thinking if you came by to help me with my homework, you would see mom and it wouldn't be a date?" Her voice was hopeful.

She heard a sigh. "I'd love to Dawn. But I'm in New York."

"Oh. OH! Mom is going to kill me! I'm not supposed to call out of the County." She sounded genuinely upset.

"Don't worry Dawn; I've had Ms. Eglemore reverse the cost."

"But that means you will have to pay for it. That isn't fair." She fretted. Simon chuckled.

"A small price to pay for brightening up my day."

There was a short silence. "Did you really tell Ms. Eglemore about helping me with my homework?"

"Yes I did. I had to give her and Ms. Vance and Ms. Devereaux an extensive description of all I did that afternoon." He sounded amused. "I think they made notes about everything and everyone I met and spoke to."

"Oh. Umm.. Will you be by again some day?"

"I will do my best to come by as soon as possible Dawn."

"Good. Thank you. I have to hang up now; otherwise Willow will want to know why I'm taking so long in the bathroom."

"Then by all means go. Thank you for calling."

"Thanks Simon. Hope to see you soon." She hung up and Simon carefully placed the old fashioned handset back in its cradle. He swiveled his chair around to take in the view over central park. After a few minutes the office door opened and Patricia entered.

She stood next to him, slim and ramrod straight, her iron grey hair pulled away from her strong boned aging face, her shoulders back and her piercing grey eyes looking of into the same distance as Simon was. Her skirt was dark blue, a white blouse with a pearl necklace and a blue jacket completed her outfit for the day. "Wrong Summers lady to call?" She looked at him questioningly.

Simon smiled up at her wryly. "I don't think that there is a wrong Summers lady."

"So what are you going to do?"

He swiveled the chair. Looked up at her, amusement twinkling in his dark eyes. "Well Operation Sassafras is still several weeks from completion…"

Patricia Eglemore closed her eyes. Counted to ten. Opened her eyes. "How did you know about that?"

Simon snorted. "Despite what you, Cynthia and Honor may think, I am not quite helpless or stupid. I called up the property list for Sunnydale and saw the orders given for renovation. And I did notice that some of the administration of the business was being moved to LA."

"Ah. " Pat had the grace to look a bit embarrassed. "I take it you approve?"

Simon rolled his eyes. "Not the choice of domicile. But the place does need a renovation." He stood up. "You've been clearing my social calendar for three weeks. I'll be leaving for LA tomorrow."

Pat sighed. "The house isn't finished yet Simon. And you will be out of the loop for at least two more weeks until we can move operations from New York to LA."

"I've arranged for an apartment. Phone and internet have been installed. And when was the last time I had anything like a holiday?"

Pat's mouth fell open. " A vacation? Simon, are you serious?"

"Yes."

"My god. I want to meet this woman."

"No doubt you will. I'll want the LA mansion checked as well, that was last done in '83, yes?"

"You looked that up as well? " Pat seemed impressed.

"Yes, I thought I might as well be thorough. I've left an Instruction for the directors on the general policy on decisions." He shrugged. "Nothing unexpected. Same one as when I go on a long business trip."

"So you are just going to show up at her door and ask to be let into her life?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of a little wooing and then a formal courtship, but maybe I should just go 'Grunt want woman', bash her over the head with a club and drag her away by her hair?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

She chuckled. "Go with the wooing and the courtship. The caveman thing is old even for you."

"Damn, and here I thought I'd take her clubbing."

She smiled at him broadly. "Bad punning, Simon? You must be in love. Well good for you. I'll coordinate with the others. You do realize the directors are going to have a fit?"

"I can live with their collective discomfort and conniptions untroubled and to a great age."

Pat sighed, wistfully. "I am kind of sorry I won't be seeing this courtship first hand."

"No doubt the Yellow page press will descend on us the first time I take her anywhere and will keep you informed in great detail." Simon looked decidedly uncomfortable at the thought.

She smirked. "Or I might take a vacation myself. It has been a while for me as well."

He gave her a dark look. "Well don't expect to stay with me. An addition to the household might crimp my style."

"So you won't be taking Miller?"

"No, I won't."

"He'll not like that."

"He'll learn to live with it."

She shook her head in amusement. "I'll go arrange your flight. You will introduce me to these redoubtable Summers women before you get married?"

"I shall endeavour to convince them to meet you."

"Thank you, most gracious of you. Director Tenson will be here in ten minutes. I assume you will tell him of your holiday yourself?"

"It will be my very great pleasure to do so. Thank you Pat."

"You're welcome Simon." She left his office, closing both doors softly.

The Women's clinic was quiet. Joyce and Buffy were shown into a large office, comfortably furnished. A meeting table and a desk and the accompanying chairs filled most of the space and a large picture window looked out over the garden.

A willowy red head, well over six feet tall, with slight touches of grey in her hair moved gracefully forward to meet them. She wore a light blue pants suit and a white doctor's coat hung over the back of one of the chairs. "Joyce and Buffy Summers? I'm Margaret Lawson."

Joyce shook the proffered hand. "Pleased to meet you." Buffy shook hands as well. Margaret picked up her coat and hung it over the back of the desk chair, taking one of the three chairs before the desk, gesturing towards the other two.

"Do you want something to drink?"

Joyce shook her head. Buffy did likewise. Margaret turned to Buffy. "I assume you want to do this alone? Or do you want your mother to be present?"

Buffy blushed a little and looked at her mother with a little trepidation, hoping she'd understand. Joyce rose and smiled. "Don't worry honey; I'll be right outside if you do need me."

Buffy smiled in relief. "Thanks mom."

Joyce left and Margaret closed the door behind her, sitting down beside Buffy. Buffy studied her carefully, wondering at the odd combination of the birdlike Marcel and the tall, collected redhead. "You're different from what I expected."

Margaret gave her a whimsical smile. "Marcel likes tall women."

Buffy blushed furiously. "I didn't mean…"

"Don't worry about it dear. We've long ago gotten used to the fact I am taller than Marcel. He has no problems with it. Now, let's get the physical bit over with and then I'll have to ask you some questions."

Buffy nodded. Margaret led her to an examination room where she changed into a surgical gown. A quick examination was all it took. Buffy was surprised it wasn't more uncomfortable. The instruments had been warm and Margaret very deft. She dressed again and entered the office just as Margaret got of the phone.

"That was Marcel." She gave Buffy a wide eyed look of sheer awe and admiration. "You're the Slayer."

Buffy blinked and sat down. "Yes. Man this is weird."

"What is dear?" Buffy noted the endearment. It seemed to come naturally from the graceful redhead and she decided to take no offence.

"I was expecting to be fighting for my future and my freedom and instead I get this…this fanclub!" She waved her arms around.

Margaret laughed. "Just you wait until you meet the Loudun support group. When they hear you burned and killed a vampire master and his minions…"

"Support group?" Buffy looked stunned.

"Loudun sufferers support group. Mostly people exchanging demon stories with people who believe them. It's very cathartic."

"Umm. Do I have to go there?"

"Marcel might recommend it. But not unless you want to. You are sort of a special case."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sorta. So now what?"

"Physically I can see that you are untouched." Buffy blushed despite herself and Margaret grinned reassuringly. "But vampires are known to be…suggestive."

Buffy shuddered, her voice shivered. "He was a pervert. He whispered things to me. Things he wanted to do to me."

"I imagine he did. Did he lay hands on you?"

Buffy closed her eyes. "He…yes." She shuddered in revulsion remembering those cold and knowledgeable touches.

Margaret nodded sympathetically. "Marcel will go into that. My report will be very succinct for now. I will be available for later counseling if you want. Now is there anything I can do for you?"

"No, thank you. Thanks for seeing me on such short notice."

"No problem, it just means Marcel has cooking duties tonight." She winked. "I'll let you out"

She rose and led Buffy back to the waiting room. Joyce was standing by the window, her face strained, her hands twined together. Buffy quickly walked towards her, giving her a hug. "I'm all right mom."

Margaret nodded. "Marcel can take care of the psychological side of things, there are no physical after effects." Buffy stiffened and Joyce rubbed her back. "It will be alright love, it will be alright."

Margaret cleared her throat, looking uncomfortable. "This is going to be dreadfully unprofessional of me…"

Buffy grinned, suddenly realizing where this conversation was going. "I am certain that we can handle it."

Joyce looked at her daughter wondering what she knew. Margaret plunged in. "So…you are the Joyce Simon has been talking about?"

Joyce gasped and her face went beet red, then she glared at Buffy who was almost bent double with laughter.

Margaret shrugged apologetically, raising her hands, blushing herself. "Ah, sorry. I shouldn't interfere, I know. Shouldn't have asked."

Joyce stopped glaring at her daughter and tried to get her blush back under control

She took a deep breath. "Yes, I probably am. Unless he is very free with his affections."

"Simon? He hasn't dated in twenty-five years." Margaret slapped a mortified hand in front of her mouth. "You didn't get that from me! Oh god, Simon is going to _kill_ me!"

Buffy had by now collapsed on a chair with laughter. Joyce and Margaret looked at each other in shared mortification. Then Joyce's lips twitched. Margaret's twitched. Then both of them started grinning. "I'd say we are now sisters in embarrassment?"

"Well at least you now know he is _chary_" she stressed the old fashioned British word and Joyce realized it must be a Simon word by the twinkle in Margaret's eye, "of giving out his affections." Margaret rubbed her still flaming cheek.

Joyce nodded thoughtfully. "That is a good to know." She glanced at her hysterically giggling daughter and sighed. "Buffy, remind me to get into fits of giggles about your love life when you are a little older and less sensitive about it."

Buffy snorted, raising a challenging eyebrow. "What makes you think I have no love life now?"

Joyce shrugged. "I'd know. Pike doesn't count. The gentleman in black does not count until he is properly introduced, no matter how handsome he may be." She gave her daughter a pointed look.

Buffy gawped and blushed. "How the hell do you know about all that?"

Joyce shook hands with a smiling Margaret. "Language Buffy! I'm a mother. It comes with the territory. Thank you Margaret." She paused. "I think we will be seeing each other again in the future."

Margaret beamed. "Oh, excellent! I hope to see you both soon under more cheerful circumstances." She walked over to Buffy and shook the girl's hand as well. She led both women out of the building and waved as they got into the car and drove away.

Upon arriving back in Sunnydale in the early evening Joyce Summers cooked a simple dinner of beef, potatoes and vegetables for her daughters and the so-not-a- baby sitter. Willow's parents were away for the night and she had refused to let the girl go home to eat a microwave meal alone. Willow had attempted to down play her situation but Joyce had firmly taken control and even driven by her home to pick up an overnight bag: Willow would have a sleepover with Buffy and had gotten a good meal. Willow was now doing homework with Buffy, so both could go out later.

Dawn was unexpectedly silent and walked around the house looking ready to burst into tears. Joyce knew that Dawn would come to her when she was ready to talk and nothing she could do or say would make her before hand. Now it was time to take her big step. She took a deep breath, opened the drawer of her bedside table and removed the business card.

As she was about to sit down she saw a small indentation on the bedcovers. She smirked. Well, at least she would have one thing to ask Simon. She dialed the number. The phone rang and was picked up on the first ring. "Dr. Meier's office, Cynthia Vance speaking."

"Miss Vance? Umm. My name is…"

"Ms Summers! I recognize your voice. How may I help you?"

Joyce blinked. "Err, well Sim… Dr Mayer…Meier asked me to call this number to ummm…"

"Set a date for a date?" Joyce could hear the grin in Cynthia's voice. "Indeed he did."

Joyce blushed. "So, err can you tell me when would be convenient?"

"Well he's on vacation for the next two weeks."

"Ah. How nice for him" Joyce tried to suppress the disappointment in her voice. She knew she'd failed.

"His first one in seven years."

"Really? He must have needed one then." Despite her frustration she felt sorry for him, married to his work apparently. "So, where is he? Somewhere in Europe? And can we set a date for when he returns?"

"Sunnydale, California. 12, Calvary Hill Apartments, 65 Gold Rush Avenue. I think you can set a date together…"

Joyce could hear the smothered laughter on the other end of the line as she spoke in total astonishment. "He's taking his first vacation in seven years in Sunnydale?"

The voice on the other end became serious. "I'd say he's taking his first vacation in seven years with Joyce Summers. Her daughters too, but primarily with Joyce Summers. I think he'd have booked an igloo in Canada if that meant he would be near you."

Joyce blushed, very glad the woman could not see her. "So what was he going to do? Just show up? Camp out on my doorstep?"

Cynthia giggled. "Well Pat Eglemore said he was going to woo you with flowers and perfume. He despises camping, so he wouldn't have camped out on your doorstep at any rate…"

Joyce sighed. Wooing with flowers and perfume sounded rather nice. "So when will he be here?"

"He's coming into LAX tonight. He'll be in Sunnydale tomorrow. Well late tonight really, but he won't be good for much but sleep."

"Will he call in when he lands?"

"He always does."

"Tell him to present himself for breakfast at ten in the morning. My place. Think he'll be able to manage that?"

There was a snort. "He's done with less sleep for less pleasurable encounters. He'll be there."

Joyce smiled. "I'll see him tomorrow then. Do you have a phone number for him?"

Cynthia gave a gurgling laugh. "Oh yes indeed." She gave the number, as well as the apartment address, repeating both for good measure.

"Thank you Ms Vance."

"You are most welcome Ms Summers." Joyce rang off. She looked at the address and phone number, a smile tugging at her mouth. She rose, opened the door and saw Dawn's door close and thinking she heard a sob she quickly walked over to her younger daughter's bedroom and knocked. Dawn did not answer. "Dawnie, are you in there?"

"Go away!" A sob could definitely be heard at the end of the sentence. Dawn was usually ready to talk when her tears broke. Joyce opened the door resolutely. "I think not." She strode over to the bed and sat beside her sobbing daughter. Dawn was laying face down, head buried in her pillows, narrow shoulders shivering with her grief. Joyce ran a hand down Dawn's hair and then laid it on her back.

"What's wrong Dawn? Tell me what is wrong?"

Dawn struggled to sit upright, turning into her mother. There were tears running down her cheeks and sobs wracked her body.

"I called Simon. This afternoon." Dawn didn't look at her mother, expecting to be reprimanded.

Joyce nodded. "I thought you might have."

Dawn looked up. She could see no anger on Joyce's face, just amusement and a touch of exasperation.

"He had a secretary lady, Ms Eglemore. She was very nice. He'd told her about the homework, he was in New York and working and he talked to me and said he would do his best to come see me soon. And he had Ms Eglemore reverse the charges too."

Joyce smiled. "Did he now?"

Dawn sobbed louder. "And then I called daddy and he said he was busy and to make an appointment with his secretary. And his secretary said…" The sobbing got worse. " She said she wasn't aware Mr. Summers had a daughter!" The last came out as a wail.

Joyce felt an over powering urge to drive to LA and kick Hank in a place he valued more than his daughters. And to beat up on his bimbo secretary as well. Instead she hugged her shattered little girl tightly to her and whispered love and affection at her until, finally, exhausted by her emotions, Dawn fell asleep. Joyce covered her with a blanket and left the room, closing the door very softly behind her.

Buffy and Willow were looking at her solemnly as he came into the living room. She had expected the older girls to be gone already, off to the Bronze, or whatever they called it. Buffy looked quite upset.

"Is Dawnie alright? We heard her crying."

Joyce sat down with a sigh. "Not really." She buried her face in her hands, rubbing it fiercely, and then looked up at the two. "No reason for you two to stay here though, I can take care of Dawn."

"She called dad. Willow told me. What did he say?"

Joyce took a deep breath. "Let's just say he acted like your father has been acting for a while."

Buffy muttered a few choice swearwords and insults under her breath but swallowed the others at her mother's reproving glance. "Sorry mom. Will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine in the morning dear. You two just run off and have fun."

"Are you sure mom? I don't mind staying…"

"Buffy, just go out and have fun, you're only young once. Enjoy it."

Buffy leaned over and hugged Joyce, tightly. "I love you mom." Joyce kissed the side of Buffy's head. "Love you too dear." She gave a mock glare. "But you will be home on time!" She also noted the wistful expression on Willow's face.

Buffy rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. "Yes mom, promise."

Joyce rose and practically pushed her daughter to the door.

Just as Willow was about to leave she gave the girl a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead. "Thanks for watching Dawn, Willow." A quick glare. "And you be home on time as well! I'll be waiting for the two of you!"

Willow blushed fiercely, her eyes wide in surprise. Buffy eyed her mother thoughtfully "Yes Ms Summers. Good night."

She heard a fierce whisper as she closed the door. "Why did she do that?" Willow did not sound at all displeased.

Buffy's answer was as thoughtful as her look had been. "She probably just thought you could use a hug Will."

The closed door stopped Joyce from hearing the rest of the conversation. But she felt better for all that.

The girls had come home giggly and talking about tall handsome strangers, blushed when they realized that Joyce had heard them discuss the merits of leather trousers versus tight jeans for the purposes of studying boys. Joyce had reined in her smile at remembering similar conversations with Lolly when she had been their age. She had merely given them a motherly look, kissed them both goodnight, shocking Willow into stammers and blushes, told them not to stay up too late, knowing full well that it was an idle remonstrance and had turned in herself.

She had checked in on Dawn several times during the evening and found her sleeping but she was not surprised when her door opened in the night and a small figure made its way to her bed. She lifted the blanket and Dawn's shivering body moved in beside her, teary faced and shuddering with repressed sobs. Joyce held her again until her grief-stricken daughter fell asleep once more. She realized the only thing she still valued about Hank was the daughters he'd given her.

When Joyce woke the next morning Dawn was curled into her, cheeks and eyes still bearing the remnants of her sorrow. She carefully moved away from the girl, desperately trying not to wake her. She put on a robe over the large t-shirt she had worn to bed, stuck in her contacts and walked down the stairs, entering the kitchen and yawned. She began making coffee for herself, knowing she'd need it after her disturbed night. Simon was going to get a good dose of real Joyce, bags under her eyes and all. She chuckled. At least he wouldn't walk into a relationship not knowing what he was getting. She yawned again and stretched.

There was a knock at the kitchen door and she opened it without thinking. He was wearing a light grey linen suit this time, but his eyes were still brown-green and laughing. He carried a huge net of oranges in his left hand and a huge box from the British bakery and a bag of fresh bread on his right arm. His cane hung in the bend of the left. The box and bag covered the lower part of his face, but she could imagine from the way his eyes crinkled that this mouth was smiling. And here she was, dressed… in a robe hanging open and an ancient overlarge t-shirt that went barely to mid thigh and precariously wanted to crawl down her left shoulder. She gulped.

"Simon. You're early" She quickly tied the robe shut and avoided his eyes.

When she looked up again he looked contrite. "I know, I'm sorry. I saw movement in the kitchen and thought…I just wanted to see you."

She smiled despite herself, amused at the situation. "Got a good look?"

"Oh yes indeed." She was honestly surprised at the warm tone, almost reverence. She felt herself getting warm. It had been a long time since a man had looked at her with that sort of desire. She stepped back, beckoning him in.

"I was just making coffee; then going to shower. Care to join me?"

He grinned and she realized how what she said might be interpreted. She rolled her eyes and blushed despite herself. *She was a grown, adult woman with two children! Why the heck was she blushing?*

"Please…" His voice was velvet. She gave him a quelling glare, knowing full well that her blush ruined it.

"Put the food on the table, I'll get you some coffee." She poured him a cup and he accepted it gravely, sitting down after putting down the food removing his jacket and tie. He was wearing golden cufflinks she noted, set with lapis lazuli of purest blue in art deco styling. Tiffany work, she was sure.

"So how have you been?"

"Well. Very well. Buffy saw Dr Ovrion. He has tentatively diagnosed her and I think he will help her greatly and keep her out of the hands of Child Welfare."

Simon nodded, obviously pleased. "Good."

"I also met Margaret, who told me you had been talking about me." She waited to see his reaction but he met her gaze calmly.

"I was supposed to stay with them that night and eat with them that evening. I did have to explain why I did not."

Joyce sipped again. "Is that why you told your secretary about Dawn and her homework?"

He gave her an amused look. "Dawn confessed?" He saw the distraught look passing over her face. "Joyce? I'm sorry, did I do anything wrong? I remember how awful it was when I tried to talk to my father and he was too busy and I was shunted down to a secretary who did not even know who I was. I just told them who you all were, to treat you with utmost courtesy..."

Joyce took a great gulp of hot coffee. "No, no nothing you did." She was silent for a while. "Let's say Hank acts similarly to your father."

Simon winced. "Ah. Poor Dawnie." He reached across the table and touched Joyce's hand. "Why don't you go take a shower, I'll prepare breakfast."

Joyce raised an amused eyebrow. "Can you even bake eggs?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes I can as a matter of fact. I can cook quite well." He looked at the table. "My father did not approve."

"Which is why you learned it of course." She nodded understandingly.

He smiled, an honest smile if a trifle naughty. "Go and get dressed before Buffy comes down and thinks I struck a home run last night."

Joyce giggled about that remark all the way into her bathroom.

Dawn woke to the sound of the running shower and her mother's soft humming. She yawned and stretched, crawling out of her mother's bed and walking barefoot downstairs, her Winnie the Pooh sleep shirt hanging down almost over knees. There was a noise from the kitchen. The oven was on and there was a smell of warm bread and orange juice. She stepped into the doorway and saw a grey trousered, white shirted figure busily squeezing oranges, an apron she knew had "Kiss the cook" on it around his waist. He turned round as she gasped.

"Hello Dawn. Seems like I got to come by quicker than I thought."

She stepped into the kitchen and he glanced at her bare feet. "You might want to put on some slippers. Or get dressed."

She took another step, suddenly accelerating, throwing her arms around him. "Thank you."

He put his arms around her and gave her a hug. "No thank you, for calling me Dawn. I still would have been sitting in New York, getting more and more annoyed if you hadn't."

"Does mom know you are here?"

"Yes, she asked me over. But I was already on my way."

"How long are you here for?" Her voice sounded muffled, not surprising since she had not removed her face from, his midriff yet.

"I took a two week holiday."

"We don't have one."

"I know; I can catch up on my reading. Take a few walks. Stuff like that."

"Ok. My teacher wants to meet you."

Simon smirked. "Really? Why?"

"She's from Scotland and you put Edinburgh down as a capital."

Simon laughed. "Indeed. Well if you insist. You need to let go now Dawn, there are oranges to squeeze."

Dawn let go and sat down on a kitchen stool, one leg tucked under the other, swinging her leg. Simon turned back and poured the orange juice into a glass pitcher.

"Soooo…what are you going to do today?

"I have no solid plans, but I do want to take your mother out to dinner."

"No movie?"

"We can watch a movie right here on the couch, if we have time."

"Where are you taking her?"

"A place called Di Firenze, an Italian restaurant."

Dawn nodded approvingly, swinging her leg faster. "She likes Italian."

"So I've been told."

"So what about this afternoon?"

Simon looked at her gravely. "Arrangements yet have to be made."

Dawn giggled. "You could take a walk, there's forests and stuff. But I suppose she does have to go to the gallery too."

"An excellent proposal. How's ballet going for you?"

"I'm in a really nice group." She suddenly looked sad. "But there's a really big ballet production in LA in a weeks time, and dad promised he'd take me there, but I haven't heard anything yet."

"What ballet?"

"Swan lake, by the Kirov ballet."

"At the Dorothy Chandler?"

"Yeah."

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Joyce, her hair still trifle wet from her shower and curling softly around her face. She was wearing a soft pastel blue sundress and matching sandals, with a silver coloured necklace. She sighed at Dawn, who had drawn one knee inside her nightshirt and was still dangling the other. "Dawnie, go get dressed."

She threw her hair back over her shoulder. "Why? He's seen me in my underwear already."

Simon stifled a laugh. Joyce had to keep her mouth firm to prevent her own from escaping. "That was as a Doctor. Now shoo."

Dawn sighed. "Oh phooey!"

She flounced out. Simon poured another orange worth of juice as Joyce sat down.

"So is Buffy liable to come in here dressed in Eyore?"

Joyce shook her head. "I took mercy upon my elder daughter and her friend and told them to dress properly."

"And how did they react? "

"I they groaned a lot at the hideously early hour. But I tend to impose dress code at the breakfast table anyway. So Buffy's liable to be surprised." She smiled wickedly.

"Is Hank likely to take Dawn to the Ballet?"

Joyce shook her head, sadly this time. "Another one of the promises to her he is not going to keep. I called his office and he's got a date with his new girlfriend and his boss that evening. No room for an eleven year old daughter. Nor the decency to tell her in person."

"So that was part of the disappointment?"

"Yes. She was really looking forward to it, but it was sold out weeks ago. Hank would not have remembered until three hours before anyway."

He nodded, sliding onto the stool opposite again. "A pity. Would she have had a dress fitting for the occasion?"

Joyce shrugged. "I made her one a few months ago. It kept my mind off things."

"She suggested I take you for a walk."

Joyce smiled. "Most of the greenery around here is graveyard. And I do have to work at the Gallery."

"I don't mind seeing some art."

"And miss the magnificent funerary monuments of the Sunnydale elite?"

"Well I do believe a great-grand uncle of mine lies buried here. He founded a bank during the gold rush. Died in Sunnydale while setting up the local branch."

"Ah, so that is the origin of the distant relatives?"

Simon grinned. "No Uncle Gabriel died, as they say it, without issue. The distant relatives are the result of a liaison with an 'unsuitable lady' by an elder son, sometime early in the previous century."

Joyce lifted an eyebrow. "Unsuitable? And that long ago and you recognize them as family?"

"I think she was an official mistress, he would have married her, but she was Jewish. He handed her off to a nice Jewish boy, including suitable dowry, once he'd gotten her in the family way, and they moved west. I don't think they are even aware of the connection."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Then why the visit?"

He rose and grinned at her. " Checking them out. I need someone to leave the money to; I might as well give some of it to family. They're about all that is left, beside me."

"You could still marry and beget Simon Hendrick Coenraad Meier XVI." She said it jokingly.

"I think the Meier line will die out with me. We've been going for a long time. Probably too long."

Joyce moved behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders, then moving them down to encircle his waist.. "Don't be so fatalistic." There was a noise of descending teenager and Buffy and Willow came into the kitchen, both yawning, but dressed and washed.

"Mom? Can I have two eggs and bacon?"

Simon picked up an egg. "Certainly. Over easy? Or Sunny side up?"

Buffy's eyes widened and she froze mid yawn. She very slowly took in the man at the stove, her mother's position right behind him. "Wow mom, you certainly don't waste time." Her mouth flickered into a smile. "So are you going to?"

Joyce looked at her. "Going to what?"

"Kiss the cook?"

Joyce groaned. Simon grinned at Buffy and Willow, who was blushing for no reason he could divine. "The cook will be taking orders, but will require payment in kind." He winked at Willow. "Red heads pay extra."

Willow blushed even more wildly but gave a timid smile and sat next to Joyce, Buffy opposite her. Simon, using two pans, had the eggs prepared in a more than credible fashion within a very short time. He served himself and Dawn last. Talk concentrated on plans for the day, Buffy and Willow going to hang out, a suitably vague term, Dawn wanting to go to visit a nearby friend from ballet class, Joyce needing to go to the gallery and Simon to wander at will through 'beautiful vibrant Sunnydale.'

Once breakfast was over Joyce kept Dawn to help her clear the table. The others walked out onto the porch and sat on the swing.

"I'd like to thank you for sending me to Marcel." She started, unsure how to begin.

"It was my pleasure." He inclined his head towards her. "It will be good for you to talk to him. About everything."

She gave him a penetrating glare. "How did you know?"

He gave his familiar shrug. "It's a bit too public here for that discussion. Later?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, I suppose. A pity you can't come to the high school library."

Willow nodded, before Buffy could continue. "Why not, I mean he met Giles before? He could like, come by and inquire after his health?"

Simon gave her a look, then his face became pensive. Finally he diffidently ventured a name. "Rupert Giles?"

"Errr…yes." Buffy nodded. "He said you met at the Museum?"

"Indeed. Now why would Rupert Giles become a librarian in Sunnydale…" He gave Buffy a wink.

"So you can come by? We're supposed to have a study meet…"

"Yes, I think that might be wise. I imagine you want answers. Knowing Dr Giles he's probably at work still."

"Dr Giles? What sort of doctor?" Willow was immediately interested.

"Classical and pre classical antiquity, I think. I was just introduced to him. But he was the Curator of Ancient near eastern civilizations at the BM. It would have to be something related to that."

"Oh." Willow's expression was astonished. "So he really was at the British Museum."

Simon seemed amused. "Indeed he was." He rose. "I'll just go see if Joyce is ready to go to the gallery…"

Buffy grinned as he made his way back into the kitchen. She could hear Dawn complain inside about the unfairness of child labour. She placed her hands behind her head and stretched her legs in front of her in satisfaction. "Well. I may get a Porsche out of this after all."

Willow sniggered.

Dawn was off playing with her friend Janice and Joyce was at the gallery, having told Simon to show up later to share a late lunch.

Which left a small and incongruous group to visit Sunnydale high on a Saturday afternoon. Travelling in the ancient Volvo Buffy, Willow and Simon arrived at the school to find Giles waiting for them at the gate.. Simon locked his car and sauntered up to the Watcher, cane over his right shoulder, box of pastry on his left arm.

"Dr Giles. It is good to see you again." He bowed slightly.

"Dr Meier. A most fortuitous meeting." Giles bowed in return, waving for his guest to enter. "I am working in my office in the Library. Please follow me."

Simon followed Giles and the party arrived at the Library soon. Xander was lounging in his usual seat, but his feet were on the table. "Xander. Feet on the ground." Giles said it almost absentmindedly, as if this was a usual occurrence. From the look on Buffy and Willow's faces it probably was.

Giles sat at one end of the table and Simon sat at his right, looking around with interest. "Procopius? Rather heavy reading for a High School library." He had noted the large volume in the middle of a stack of books Giles had yet to put away.

"I believe in a wide diversity of reading. It trains the mind."

"Not to mention that if it is the full edition of the _Secret History_ it contains all those tantalizing facts about witchcraft and demon hunting."

Giles blinked. "That is hardly common knowledge."

"I come from an ancient and very wealthy family."

"I see. Is that the same way you know about the Slayer?"

"And the Watchers. And the supernatural has long interested me."

"I assume you have never fought a demon?"

"I try to avoid it. They tend to be so very dangerous." Simon smiled whimsically.

Giles smiled back. "Quite understandable. Well that clears the matter up." He hesitated "Ah, will you or any of those who know perhaps be interested in a position as a Watcher?"

Simon shook his head decisively. "No. From what I've seen I would not be happy with the Watchers and Marcel and Margaret would definitely not be. And most of the poor victims they treat, definitely not. So please leave them alone."

Giles nodded. "Quite. But it is good to know that Buffy will have people for support outside ourselves." He gestured at Xander, Willow and himself.

Simon inclined his head at Buffy. "I will certainly try and assist as best I may."

Buffy snorted. "If you're not too busy doing other things…"

Simon raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any suggestion Buffy? Visited any romantic graveyards lately? Suitable for…necking?"

Buffy looked uncomfortable. "Err…"

"Kiss her passionately behind the family monument…" He looked at her musingly

The blush on Buffy's face deepened. Giles looked at her with quiet interest. "Go to second base on a quiet bench under a spreading oak tree that overshadows the burial of young lovers…"

Buffy groaned, raising her hands in defeat. "Mercy. Too much information! Please mercy!"

Simon chuckled. "I'll be there whenever you want to play Buffy. Except when I am busy with your mother of course…"

She buried her face in her hands, ears still burning. "Oh god, I so did not need to think about that…"

Simon rose and sketched a small bow. "Well I assume you are all here to discuss demon slaying and such matters of importance. I however am on holiday and intend to enjoy myself. You may find me at the Summers Gallery." He left, allowing the Slayer and her friends to discuss the supernatural situation in peace. And hopefully goof of in the afternoon.

He went for a quick visit to the hospital, introducing himself and requesting a visiting physician's identity card, leaving his information. He did a little window shopping and bought a few minor items of furniture. He became a member of the public library and borrowed and bought a good three dozen books. He bought a sketchbook and some pencils and pens as well. He took the books to his apartment in the car, went back into the center of town and drank a cappuccino at a quaint little café that called itself the Espresso Pump and sketched as he drank the beverage. It was better than he expected. He wondered if he should get a bike. A bit of restful exercise would do him good.

When Simon walked into the Sunnydale Fine arts Gallery it was about 12.00. The gallery was the new attraction in town. One that wasn't a cemetery at any rate. This meant that there was actually quite a crowd of people inside and business seemed quite brisk. The front rooms currently housed an exhibition of African idols and he glanced in amusement at a fertility idol placed in the corner beyond the sight of casual passers by.

Joyce kept a fair selection of unique pieces, mostly African and Indian art, a few good if minor nineteenth and twentieth century American and British masters, she had told him she wanted to go for an upper middle class and higher clientele. He hoped business would remain this good. But the art trade was fickle, it was one reason he had never been much interested in it. Joyce was circulating. He noticed that where the customers had glasses of sparkling white wine she had a glass of mineral water.

She gave him the same warm smile she had that first time he had seen her, when the carefully built wall around his heart had fallen as hard and fast as the walls of Jericho. But this time there was a little more in there than the kindness to a stranger, even a little more than there had been in the smile she had given him after that strange, almost perfect afternoon had ended. He smiled back at her and settled on a wooden bench, a fair distance from her and just looked.

She had put a light blue grey jacket on over the sun dress and had applied some careful colourless varnish to her nails. She stood in the light of the early afternoon sun and he thought her the most beautiful thing he had seen in decades. He could imagine her, with that serene look, walking through the streets of Paris in the autumn, as the rain fell on a shared umbrella. In Venice, during the Carnival the masks would not be able to hide her sheer beauty, and the passion he knew lay beneath that face, in New York she would grace any society party he would have to attend.

Yet here and now in this time and place, talking to a man and woman who wanted to buy art and did not know what it was, here she was real. And all the places he wanted to take her would have to wait, wait until she was willing to go there with him. Tonight he would take her to a good but not too expensive Italian restaurant, and afterwards pass by the Italian Ice cream parlour.

He sat on the bench, studying the works in the gallery he could see from that position, but mostly looking at Joyce, how she moved, talked, gestured. He was certain he could watch her for decades and still see new things in her every time he looked.

He was approached after a few minutes by a young woman in a white dress and burgundy red jacket and sandals, her shoulder length black hair and blue eyes a marvelous contrast. She smiled at him, a salesman's smile. "Hello, my name is Marianne; can I help you in some way? Show you some of what we have on offer?"

He saw Joyce give him an amused look. He rose, extending his hand. "Simon Mayer, I was admiring one particular work of art, but I am certain you can show me something else. I fear if I sit here looking at it all day I will give the wrong impression."

Marianne looked behind her, seeing Joyce stand beside a sketch of a Native American encampment by Frederic Remington. "Ah yes, the Remington, one of the best pieces in the gallery."

Simon gave her a slow smile and his eyes moved ever so slightly away from the sketch. He equally slowly moved his eyes up and down Joyce's form. "If you say so."

Marianne noticed the direction of his admiring gaze and also the slight blush that crept up her employer's face. She stifled a giggle. "I see. Is there anything _art_ related in the gallery I might show you? If the Remington doesn't attract you?"

"Do you have any portraits, mid nineteenth century?"

"A few, is there a particular artist you are looking for?"

Simon smiled. "Nothing in particular, I just like the style of the period." She nodded, leading him to another part of the gallery. He looked at one or two African pieces but he spent most of his time carefully studying the portraits. Portraits of strangers were the worst selling pictures, he knew, unless the artist was very famous. He left after twenty minutes, taking a mint from the large bowl on the counter. He took out a pad and pencil, sat down outside a small café opposing the gallery and started to sketch.

After an hour or so he was joined by Joyce, who looked over his shoulder and asked the question with her eyes. The sketches were well executed, well ordered and composes in the classical style. "Edinburgh insisted its graduates should be able draw anatomical details, my mother thought it would be good for me to have some classical training. I spent a year at the Glasgow School of Art and Slade's. I never would have got in without a generous donation from the family." There was a bitter twist to his lips after he finished talking, sketching in the tree in front of the Gallery.

Joyce held out a hand and after a little hesitation he handed over the sketchbook. It was new and only the first few pages had been filled, the earlier sketches stilted and crossed out. She gave it back.

"They are quite good. I take it you hadn't drawn in a while?"

He smiled, deprecatingly. "Far too many years. I suddenly was struck by inspiration." His look at her was direct and calculating. "I don't suppose you'd care to pose?"

She lifted an amused eyebrow. "Not for the sort of anatomical drawings they demand from medical students, no. I like my gallbladder where it is, thank you very much!"

He smiled slyly. "How about a Coldstream?"

Joyce blinked; her mind working overtime as she thought what he might mean. It would have to do with art. Her mind threw up a card. An old memory of an appraisal came to her mind. Coldstream, William Coldstream, he had been a teacher at Slade, famous British painter. Known for his comprehensive realism, taking ages and many sittings to finish a single painting, famous for his portraits, landscapes and…female nudes. Her eyes widened and she blushed.

"And I suppose the Coldstream method too?" She tried to say it in a collected and cool voice, but knew that it quavered a bit with embarrassment and amusement. Damn the man for being so good at embarrassing her!

He glanced at her appraisingly. "I could paint you for all eternity. And maybe, one day, you will let me draw you. But for now…" He hesitated, reaching for the sketchbook, opening it roughly in the middle, thumbing through the white pages until he came to a single used page, containing a sketch of Joyce, standing in the sun in the front room of the gallery, her necklace glowing and her face animated and yet in odd repose. He handed her the book, the sketch showing, as if offering her his heart. She leafed through the following pages, showing quick studies from memory of her face, hands, eyes, lips. A whole page with just her lips.

She closed the sketchbook and put it down on the table, gesturing for the waitress and ordering a coffee, trying to get her mind to function above the *Oh God, Oh God* level.

"I notice you paid special attention to my lips." *Oh lord, I did not just say that.*

"They are worthy of years of intense study." * Oh lord, he did not just say that.*

"I would think they would get boring after a while." *Quell him Joyce. You can do this.*

"I do not think so. But then again I have heard that variety is the spice of life and I have no doubt that there are many other, interesting things about you worth study…" *Oh Lord… He did just say THAT!*

Joyce blushed furiously and the waitress gave her an encouraging smile as she put a cup of coffee on the table, adding a small platter of cookies and two menus. Joyce took a quick sip of her coffee and nodded her thanks to the waitress who left quickly.

He sat gazing at her as if she was a great work of art, or the most beautiful woman in the world. "You don't think you are beautiful." He said it as if in answer to her thoughts and she startled, almost causing her coffee to slosh over the edge of the cup.

"There are many more beautiful women in the world. You must have met some." Joyce made the statement dryly and matter of-factly. He looked at her for a minute and then shook his head.

"They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And I have beheld a lot of beautiful things. And maybe from a purely aesthetic point of view, you are right. But to me you are quite the most beautiful thing I have seen in decades."

"Simon…"

He looked straight in her eyes and smiled. "You're an Art history major. Don't tell me you've never heard of 'There's no accounting for taste.'"

"And how did you know that I'm an Art history major?" She crossed her arms at him, giving him an irritated glare.

"It's on your college diploma, which hangs in your office in the Gallery. I could see it when Marianne went in to get me the Exclusive catalogue."

Joyce sighed. "You're not going to buy anything just because..."

He interrupted her. "I might buy the Remington. Since I own the finished work, I might as well go for a full sweep and get the sketch."

Joyce gulped a too large mouthful of coffee down. "That's in the Smithsonian!"

He nodded, picking up a glazed cookie. "Yes, my father lent it to them for a special exhibition of Native American culture in the late sixties and he put something else up which he liked better and I've left the Remington there on loan on condition they would keep it safe and maintained."

Joyce blinked. "So what did he put in its place?"

Simon looked uncomfortable. "A rather large historic painting."

"Simon…." Joyce's aggravation coloured her tone.

"_The Conspiracy of Claudius Civilis_ by Rembrandt. One of the Dutch line bought it before he could cut the canvas up."

Joyce sat stock still. "You own a Rembrandt. You have an actual Rembrandt on your actual wall." She said in disbelief. Simon looked down at the table and winced.

"I own several. Most are on loan to museums."

"Several…Simon, exactly how 'independently wealthy' are we talking about here?" She crossed her arms, an angry look on her face.

"Joyce would you accept 'multiple billions' and let it go at that?" He looked at her beseechingly.

"Are we talking multiple as in two, more than two or more than ten?" She was not going to let this go.

"Uhmmm. Multiples of ten?" His hands were clasped around his cup as if it was a lifeline.

"Multiples of ten…" She looked at him accusingly. "And if you hadn't let that bit about the Remington slip, when would I have found this out?"

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "Tonight."

She blinked in surprise. "Oh. Why tonight?"

"Two reasons. Not telling you would not be fair, not a good basis for the type of relationship I want with you. And secondly I needed to make clear to you that what I did is not costing me enough to notice. And that you need to take next Friday afternoon and Saturday of from the Gallery." He looked decidedly guilty.

"Simon…what did you do?" *Not a good basis for the type of relationship I want with you…Now that sounds definitely promising.*

"I called Peter Hemmings and asked him what the 'Eternal seats' in the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion actually meant."

"Who's Peter Hemmings?"

"The director of music and performance at the LA music centre."

"And what did the eternal seats mean? And how did you get them?"

"My father got them. He donated a substantive amount to the Pavilion's construction and upkeep. All major donors receive a number of eternal seats that they can make use off. They're sold only on the night itself. I reserved mine."

"The ballet? Dawn's ballet?"

"Yes. They're quite good seats too. In the Founders' Circle of course."

Joyce could not stop blinking at him. "Oh, of course."

"Joyce, let me do this for her. I know exactly how she feels."

Joyce opened her mouth, then closed it again, then grudgingly answered. "Very well. But I'm still not letting you get past first base tonight buster!" She had the satisfaction of seeing him blush furiously.

"I did not mean…Intend…" He looked desperately embarrassed and mortified and Joyce reached out a hand to touch his.

"I know Simon, I'm sorry. And thank you. But…"

"But what?"

"But it's not easy to accept it. If this… if it does not work out between us, I don't want Dawn to expect…"

"Things she cannot have? Things you cannot give her?"

"Yes. Exactly that."

"I see… If her father had booked when he promised he could have gotten a seat. If he had spent another thought he could have gotten these seats, the last evening, reserved them. They are hardly beyond his means Joyce, certainly not for once in a while. The only difference is that when I called the Music centre I was put through to its director instead of to the box office to be told there was no room until the last night."

Joyce sighed putting a hand over her eyes. "I'm not going to win this argument, am I?"

"Not when it will make Dawnie so happy, no. You know it is just your pride talking Joyce. You wouldn't have protested if Hank had done this, you'd have cheered."

"Simon…Why?"

"Because I know what it feels like. I know what it feels like to have your parents leave you at home, break promises, because you are just a child, and not and interesting one at that, not as clever, not as accomplished, not as wonderful, not as _august_ as you should be." He gave her a fierce glare. "If I can give Dawn even a minute's reprieve from that, so help me God, Joyce I will even defy you."

She looked at him, as waves of fierce determination seemed to run off him. Her mouth quirked. "Are you telling met that you are choosing my eleven year old daughter over me? Are your affections really that fickle?"

Simon's mouth opened. A strangled noise came from his throat. He groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Dear lord, how do you do this to me? I've made Presidents of the Daughters of the Mayflower society blush and stumble. No woman has ever reduced me to this…"

"Level of astounding incoherence?" She smirked at him.

He glared at her, eyes alight with amusement. "Does Dawn get her ballet?"

"Yes, yes she will. And maybe somewhere a little boy will forget what it is like to be alone and forgotten."

He reached a hand across the table and took hers, squeezing gently, smiling in gratitude for two children, one in the present, and one in the past.


	4. Chapter 4

**Reviews are welcome**

Chapter 4: Old people cuddling

Buffy was sitting on the couch with Willow and Dawn. The red head had gone by her parents' house to water the plants and feed her fish but was going to stay over, Joyce had insisted upon it once she heard Willow's parents were away not one but two nights. And now the two teens were waiting, with Dawn ensconced against her older sister's side, sleeping in pair of PJ's, bunny slippers and her robe. She had lasted half way through the movie and had fallen asleep at about half past ten. Buffy and Willow had finished one movie and were onto the next. Buffy was definitely getting edgy. She did not think her mother's turquoise off the shoulder dress and jacket combination actually quite covered enough of her. She hadn't even known her mother owned a dress like that… Willow occasionally glanced sideways at her friend, noting the quiet nibbling at her lower lip.

"I'm sure they're fine Buffy. They said they would be home by twelve and it isn't twelve yet, not even eleven thirty."

"Yeah I know, it's just…"

A car pulled up before the house and Buffy carefully slipped away from Dawn and stealthily moved over to the windows next to the door, Willow following.

They could see Joyce and Simon by the car. To Buffy's intense amazement and eternal embarrassment it was her mother who had captured her date against the old blue Volvo, leaning up against him, both her hands on his chest. She looked up at his face and her hair glinted in the light of the streetlamps and her face was in shadows.

Her mother's face moved towards the man's who was in shadows and her lips ever so gently touched his, pressing herself into his body as she did so, raising herself on tiptoes to reach his lips and dragging his face down with her hands. Buffy glared at them, muttering. "They had damn well better leave it at just a kiss! No second base tonight, no sirree!" Willow giggled.

"What is she doing? She's all over him! Eeew! Old people cuddling!" Buffy sounded a touch disgusted at her mother's behaviour.

Willow was paying careful attention as Simon very gently placed his hands on Joyce's back, never allowing them to stray below her upper back. The kiss moved beyond gentle touching to something rather more intense. After a minute and a half or so Joyce came up for air and Simon said something which made her laugh, shaking her head. Then she gently kissed his lips again and turned, walking up the path to the door, opening it, entering the hallway and then the sitting room and smiling at the two girls innocently sitting on the couch watching the TV. They heard the car drive off outside.

"Hi mom! Have a nice night?" Buffy was just a touch to breathless.

"Very nice." Joyce smiled a little and added dryly. "Simon would like to point out that even the light from the television in the next room provides sufficient backlighting to show people standing behind the windows next to the door."

Buffy gaped and then started to blush. Willow skipped the gaping part and just blushed. "Ummm. Sorry mom."

Joyce laughed, "Oh Buffy, we don't mind." Then she winked. "And I can imagine you'd want to observe kissing so that you can do it properly."

Both teens blushed even more furiously, but where Willow glanced down in embarrassment, Buffy managed a glare.

She sat down next to Dawn and lifted her head tenderly into her lap. "I should have asked Simon in to carry her up. Now I'll have to wake her."

"Sorry mom. But she really didn't want to go to bed…She can be so stubborn!"

Joyce chuckled. "I once knew another little girl like that."

Buffy stuck her tongue out. "Wonder where we get it from." She looked at her mother slyly.

"Sooooo….."

"Yes."

"What yes?"

"Yes, he's a good kisser."

"MOM!" Buffy groaned. "I just wanted to know what you did!"

"But Buffy, you saw what we did." Joyce's voice was wicked and Buffy groaned loudly.

Dawn stirred. "Mommy?" Her voice was sleepy.

"Yes Lovey?"

"Was it nice?"

"Very nice dear."

"Did he kiss you?"

Joyce looked her amusement at her elder daughter who glared daggers at her sibling.

"No. I kissed him. He was quite surprised. Now it is time for you to be in bed young lady! Simon will be back tomorrow at ten and he's promised to take us to the park and get ice-cream.

"Hmmokay."

She smiled and gently guided her youngest to bed. She looked over her shoulder to the other two girls. "You two had better be ready for bed by the time Dawn's tucked in. I may check and tuck you in!"

"Yes mom. Yes Ms Summers." Buffy said it with a mock salute, Willow with a wistfulness that showed Joyce the girl had not been tucked in often enough. If ever.

She knocked on the door fifteen minutes later and waited for permission to enter. It came in her elder daughter's surprised voice. "Come in?"

Joyce walked in to see her daughter, clad in boxers and a large t-shirt and willow in a pair of purply button pajamas totally unsuitable for someone of her colouration. * I really need to talk to that girl about clothes* She leaned against the doorjamb. "Anyone for tucking in?"

Buffy rolled her eyes but Willow raised an enthusiastic hand. "Oh me! Me! Tuck me!"

Buffy looked at her friend, and then her mother and again that thoughtful look passed over her face. "Yeah, me too."

She lay down on her bed and covered herself with the blankets and Willow lay down on the camp bed. Joyce knelt next to Willow first, tucking the blankets around her and kissing her forehead. Willow blushed a little at that, but her smile lit up the room

Joyce moved to Buffy's bed, tucked her blankets in too and kissed Buffy as well. Buffy did not protest, merely nodded, and whispered. "Thanks mom."

Joyce left the room, turning off the lights. "Sleep well dears." She closed the door on the chorused good nights.

"You have a great mom, you know that Buffy?" Willow sounded sleepy already.

Buffy smiled at the ceiling. "Yeah. Yeah I'd say she's pretty darn good." She yawned widely and loudly and snuggled a little deeper into her tucked in sheets, still feeling her mother's kiss on her forehead. *She'd allowed that just so Willow could get tucked in. Of course she was waaayy beyond the age were she wanted to be tucked in herself. Yup.*

Buffy was tired and she and Willow had talked a lot already downstairs so she was falling asleep when she heard the soft, teary whisper that only her Slayer senses allowed her to pick up. "I wish your mom was my mom too."

Buffy was up earlier than Willow, the clock said 09.15. Her friend told her she never slept late and never more than six hours or so at the most, but when Buffy woke Willow was still sleeping under her tucked in blankets, a contented smile on her face. Buffy rose quietly, moving down the stairs and heard her mother humming in the kitchen, an old song she didn't know. She was dressed in a white linen dress with a starched skirt and comfortable looking white sandals. A thin gold necklace hung about her neck. She sat down and Joyce looked up at the sound of the moving chair. "Mom…"

"Good morning to you too dear."

Buffy muttered an apology. "Sorry. Good morning. Mom, Willow's parents are gone an awful lot…"

"She can stay here whenever they're gone dear. I'll speak to her about it later."

Buffy blinked. She had expected at least some resistance, some argument. Some discussion. Not this proactive reaction. "Oh. Okay." She rose. She walked around the table and put her arms around her mother in fierce hug. "Thanks mom. You're the best."

Joyce chuckled. "I have to keep up appearances dear, my date supports a good many foster homes country wide and he's hardly going to be impressed if I let my daughter's best friend wallow in pain and misery now, hmmm?"

Buffy just intensified her hug. "Uhm…Buffy, even the best moms have to breathe…"

"Oh, sorry mom!" Buffy gave her mother a brilliant smile. "I'll go upstairs and get dressed so I don't shock Simon."

Joyce snorted. "Simon seems to be singularly unshockable. Not even the Daughters of the Revolution or the Mayflower Association can shake his poise."

"Bet ya they could if they showed up in PJ's!"

"Oh you! Go get dressed. Would you mind waking Dawnie?"

"No problem mom. Can I have scone for breakfast as well?"

"If you three didn't finish them off last night?"

Buffy snorted. "S'yeah right, Simon bought like four dozen, even with Xander and the mutant cookie monster upstairs it would take a while."

"I shall warm a few up then. Is Xander coming by today?"

"Yeah, but not until way after breakfast, not an early riser."

"Oh and Buffy. You will not call Dawn mutant cookie monster." She gave her eldest a mock stern glance.

"How about Oscar the Grouch?"

"Buffy!"

"I mean honestly mom, have you _seen_ her room?"

"Go wake your sister, Miss Piggy."

Buffy stuck out her tongue and went back upstairs, scratching her side under her t-shirt. She opened Dawn's door carefully. Her little sister was curled up in a ball under her blankets. Despite her earlier remarks the room was quite clean and tidy. A smile seemed to lurk at the corners of her mouth. Buffy carefully sat down beside her and ran a hand over the browny-blond locks. "Yo Dawn."

Dawn lifted a hand and tried to swat Buffy's away, muttering something about flies. Buffy, well used to her sister's inability to wake up in the morning snickered and prodded her gently. "Come on sis. Wakey-wakey."

"G'way."

More prodding. "Nope. I'm on a mission from mom. You have to be up in time for breakfast at eleven. And we have strict instructions that we be decently dressed. We must not shock Simon's sensibilities."

"G'way, Buff."

Buffy's voice took on a mock severe accent. "I see…You do not wish to arise my lady? Then I fear I have no alternative but…The Tickle alarm!" She flung off Dawn's blankets and reached for the sensitive spots in her sister's sides. Dawn shot up giggling, glaring at her sister in outrage. "BUFFY!"

"Oh, good you're up. Simon's going to be here in half an hour or so and all three of us have to be in the bathroom, so we need to hurry. I'll go first."

Dawn yawned and stretched. "Mom ready?"

"And singing." Buffy grinned.

"I'll use her shower, just need to get my stuff from the big one."

Buffy smiled. "Thanks Dawnie, gives me and Willow a bit more time."

"S'okay, let me get up." Dawn put her feet into a pair of worn slippers and quickly got her toiletries while Buffy went to wake her guest. Willow was still snuggled down and Buffy pushed her nose. "Toot."

Willow woke up, her eyes crossing as she looked at the finger on her nose. "Morning Wills. It's almost 10.30 and we need to get dressed up for mom's boytoy."

Willow giggled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "Buffy! Really, I don't think your mom sees Simon as a boy, I mean he's quite young looking but he's older than she is and well, can be quite a lot more serious than boys are. And he's certainly not a toy, I mean he may look like an older Ken, but I don't think he's the sort of guy you can dress up for disco, or as a policeman, I mean, I think he'd look good in uniform…" Willow blushed a little. "Erm…"

Buffy rolled her eyes, ignoring her friend's little slip. He _had_ looked good in that tight white t-shirt. For an old guy. "Yeah ok, her sugar daddy."

Willow giggled more loudly and blushed even worse. "Buffy!"

"Anyways, I'm going into the shower first unless you hurry. And then you'd have to take a cold shower…" *Not that that would necessarily be a bad thing…Like, crushing much Wills?*

Willow rose and grabbed her bag of toiletries, walking to the bathroom. "Hurrying, see I'm hurrying!"

Minutes later Buffy could hear the sound of the shower and a hesitant little tune. She stood scowling before her closet before shrugging and going for a check skirt and white shirt combo with canvas sneakers. Just as she was done Willow scampered in, wearing a large towel. "No robe! Eep!"

Buffy sniggered. "No men either. At least for now."

Willow blushed. "Yeah, I suppose. Want me to wait here?"

"Nah, go downstairs, mom's warming the scones and pouring the juice." Willow started dressing as Buffy walked towards the shower. Willow was not one for an elaborate toilet and walked down a few minutes later. Joyce was squeezing oranges and the smell of warming scones filled the kitchen.

"Good morning Ms Summers."

"Good morning Willow, have a seat. Juice? Milk? Tea? Coffee?"

"I'm not allowed caffeine, I get all hyper and talky and babbly and stuff."

"Really?" Joyce gave her an amused look. "All babbly and hyper?"

Willow blushed. "Well more babbly."

"So juice? Any favourites? I've got fresh orange juice, bottled pressed apple and some rather good tomato, but that's from concentrate."

"Apple please." Willow glowed at being asked, Joyce noted, and her heart shook with rage at how bleak the girl's life had to be if such a simple question would make her so happy. "Apple is your favourite?"

Willow nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, I like it better than orange, less sour. Tomato is too salty."

Joyce poured her juice from the glass bottle of Farm Apple juice she retrieved from the fridge and sat down facing Willow.

"How long are your parents going to be away for Willow?"

Willow looked down. "I'm quite used to take care of myself, it's no problem."

"That was not the answer to my question young lady. You may be able to take care of yourself but that does not mean you should or that you are completely self sufficient. Or should be left alone for such periods of time at your age, no matter how responsible you are. So, how long are they going to be gone still?" Joyce gave the girl a stern but maternal look.

"T-wo weeks." Willow's eyes had gone very wide, startled by Joyce's tone and gaze.

"Willow I don't want to criticize your parents but I don't think that is a good idea. If you don't mind and if you would like to, I'd like you to stay here. And I expect you to tell me every time your parents are gone."

Willow looked down at the table. "I don't want to impose."

"Not an imposition Willow. I'm not the one who's going to be sharing her room. You should thank Buffy."

"My-y parents left money for groceries…"

"We can add it to the household kitty of you want. But it isn't necessary."

"I'd like to. I-I…"

Joyce reached across the table, grasping one small white hand and squeezing gently. "Not a problem Willow. We'll go buy groceries together. I must admit I'm not really up on kosher shopping."

Willow nodded enthusiastically. "I'm totally up on kosher shopping. I can teach you all about kosher shopping, yes indeed-y!" She blushed and looked down at the table.

Joyce squeezed her hand again. "It will be fun. Want a scone?"

"That would be great."

Dawn entered dressed in a large blue t-shirt, white skirt with pleats and dark blue ballet flats. She twirled, her twin braids flapping. "Will this do mom?"

"It will be fine honey."

Buffy arrived in her chosen outfit and sat down. "Hmm, warm scones and juice."

Joyce laughed and plated up a scone for Dawn and Buffy each. "Here you go dears. Eat up."

There was a knock at the kitchen door. Dawn ran to open it. Simon was wearing a light blue dress shirt and white linen trousers over boat shoes and a dark blue blazer. He was leaning on his cane and carried a British Bakery box. "Morning Aurora. Bagel? I admit I tried one, not as good as New York bagels, but still pretty good."

Dawn looked torn, gazing at her mother over her shoulder. "Can I have a bagel _and_ a scone mom?"

Joyce laughed. "Yes dear, this once." She mock glared at the bearer of the pastries. "You will have us all fat and addicted pretty soon Simon. Should we worry about being eaten?"

Simon's mouth quirked. "I fear Miss Gretel, you have seen through my little subterfuge. I bow to your superior instincts."

Joyce hmphed. "So are you going to enter the Candy house?"

"It will be my pleasure. I am sure it will be very…sweet."

Buffy snickered. "I'm amazed you got through that conversation without more innuendo."

Joyce placed her hands over Dawn's ears. "Little ears."

Dawn pouted. "I am not little!"

"Of course not dear. Just an expression." Joyce said soothingly.

"So what are we going to do today?" Dawn gave Simon a challenging look.

"Well I was going to take your mother for a walk in the park, have lunch somewhere, get an ice-cream and come back here for dinner. Would you like to come along?" He winked at Joyce.

Dawn looked at her mother. "Can I?"

Joyce smiled. "Yes dear. Anyplace in specific you want to go by?"

"Uh, there's the playground, some of the girls from ballet class are going to be there…" She looked hopefully from Simon to Joyce.

"No doubt there are benches nearby where adults can sit?" Simon smiled at her.

"Or canoodle." Buffy remarked dryly.

"And canoodle Buffy. I much prefer to do my canoodling sitting down." Joyce remarked calmly. Buffy flushed slightly.

"What's canoodling?" Dawn looked deeply interested.

"Kissing and cuddling dear." Joyce said it with a smile.

"Oh. Okay."

Buffy sniggered. Dawn looked at her questioningly. "What?" Buffy sniggered again. "Buffy, what?"

Joyce sighed, once again wondering at the so called joys of parenthood. "Buffy eat your breakfast and stop teasing your sister." She gave Buffy a reproving glance, but not without a humorous twinkle. Buffy made no remark but merely glanced at her mother with a far too large a grin.

Simon was eating a bagel with tea and looked at Dawn. "So, what's homework like this weekend?"

"Calculate distances between state capitals and write a bit about the railways." Dawn made a face.

"Not European capitals this time?"

"Naah, we did Europe for two weeks, now we're back to the USA." She looked at him hopefully. "So you willing to help?"

"I might be persuaded. We'll talk about it in the park, as we walk." Dawn nodded. "Cool, thanks."

Buffy pouted. "It's not fair! I'm not getting help with my French homework."

"C'est vraiment un manqué d'équité."

Buffy glared at him. "What?"

Willow giggled. "He said it was a grave injustice."

"Actually I said it was truly a lack of equality, but the meaning is the same." He nodded at Willow in approval.

Buffy looked thoughtful. "So you speak French?"

Simon smirked, putting on a look of haughty Gallic indifference. "Oui. Et alors?"

Willow desperately tried to keep her sniggers under control.

Buffy looked a bit nervous. "So would you help me too? We need to write a letter to some tourist agency for next thursday…"

"It would be my pleasure to assist you." Simon stressed the assist.

Buffy nodded a bit glumly. "Yeah, I know, gotta learn how to do it myself."

Willow raised a hand. "Umm, can I join too? I mean if it is not an imposition and you don't mind helping two teenage girls, one who is not even the daughter of the lady you are trying to…shutting up now." She blushed furiously.

Simon smiled at her gently. "I'm quite willing. Does Xander take French as well?"

"Yeah. But he also has to learn verbs. He failed a test " Buffy made a face. Learning verbs was not her favourite either.

Simon shrugged. "Learning by rote certain parts of a language it is not the only way to acquire a new language but the most feasible in this situation."

Buffy gave him an annoyed look. "Which means in English?"

"You're stuck with learning verbs." Joyce said dryly and Willow sniggered at her friend's indignation. More scones and bagels were eaten, as well as a fruit and yoghurt. Willow drank three glasses of apple juice with her single bagel and discussed chess with Dawn, who ate two bagels and two scones with two glasses of orange juice.

Buffy tried her French on her mother's beau. Her mother occasionally grinned at her but Simon merely kept gently correcting her, making her repeat herself several times until she got it right. She managed to scarf down three bagels, two scones, two glasses of juice and yoghurt and fruit herself while painfully reciting the subjunctive of être.

Joyce loaded a bakery box with bagels and scones and pointedly put it on the table to "feed Xander, he's a growing boy." Willow giggled and Buffy rolled her eyes in exasperation at her mother's feed-the-world attitude.

After the late breakfast Simon and Joyce left with Dawn, each holding one of her hands as they walked to the Volvo to drive to the park in the elderly car.

Willow looked after them and sighed. "Well, we'd better get to the library." She pouted a little. "I'd like a walk in the park too…"

"And get pushed by Simon on the swings?"

Willow bristled. "And why not? He's a very nice gentleman. I'm sure he would make a good father for Dawn. And I wouldn't mind going on a swing. Swings are fun. A-and merry go rounds and see-saws! So there!"

Buffy laughed. "When you put it like that, I wouldn't mind going there too…" She sighed. "Duty calls. Let's go Wills. But at any rate I'm not going to spend all day researching or training."

Xander and Giles were in the library, both with a book before them. Giles studied his with interest. Xander seemed to be unsure what way up the book should be. "Giles, can I point out that I don't know Latin? Also: Yay bagels."

"Then now is an excellent time to learn." The Watcher said it absentmindedly. He looked up at Buffy and Willow. "How did patrolling go last night Buffy?" He looked wistfully at the box. "Are there any scones in there?"

"I made it an early one, had to babysit Dawn. Nothing much, couple of fledgling vamps. And yeah, scones and bagels both."

"Lovely." Giles looked outside. "Why don't we keep this meeting short, I'm certain that there are lots of other things that you three want to be doing on such a beautiful day."

Willow nodded. "Yeah, but I need to work on my assignment for Computer Science. Can I do that now? Miss Calendar likes it when you hand stuff in early."

Giles face twisted in mild distaste. "Oh, let's by all means please miss Calendar. It would not do for her to show up here to vent her displeasure at my withholding her students the library's facilities."

Buffy smirked at Willow and mouthed "I told you so". The teens had talked about the rather obvious differences between the two faculty members and to the clashes that they might lead to. Buffy rather hoped that she would be there sometime when the twain would meet.

They settled in some mild general research and homework making and left early to go hang out.

Dawn was puffing, red faced. So far she had played loads of games of tag through the playground, using slings, a huge fake castle, see saws, merry go rounds and the extensive grounds to avoid capture by various others. On numerous occasions the actual identity of who was 'it' was utterly unclear, leading to chases around the playground to enact retribution. Now she was licking a soft-swirl ice-cream cone and looking at her mother who was idly playing with Simon's long fingers while licking her own normal ice-cream. Simon occasionally glanced at her as she licked and she gave him sly glances. Simon swallowed heavily once or twice. Dawn filed this under 'Strange things adults do I have to get Buffy to tell me about' and waited for her play-heated face to cool down.

They had been at the play ground for three hours now and Simon showed no sign of wanting to leave. He'd read _The Washington Post_ and a couple of chapters from a book, parts of it out loud to her mother, who'd leaned against him and even lain with her head in his lap while Simon played with her hair. That bit was filed under 'things mom and Simon do I think Buffy will really want to know.'

Now Joyce gently elbowed Simon who smiled at her and turned to Dawn. "Dawn, you remember that Ballet you wanted to go to?"

Dawn nodded sadly. "Yeah. Swan Lake. Not going to happen. There was a bit in the paper that the whole thing was sold out."

"Actually there are always a number of seats that are only sold of at the last moment, they're right at the front, the Founders' circle."

Dawn looked at her mom and Simon, disbelievingly. "You got tickets for the ballet?" Joyce smiled at Simon.

"Well no, Simon merely told the people at the Chandler Centre he wanted to use his own seats. He can do that because his father paid for part of it."

"Simon is taking me to the Ballet?" Dawn looked torn between utter delight and guilt. Her mother identified the reason for the guilt unerringly.

"No, Simon is taking _us_ to the ballet." She smiled wickedly at Simon. "We need chaperone anyway, to keep his family's reputation safe."

Simon very carefully licked the ice-cream from the two wafers he had the vendor place it between, eying her mother, who suddenly got a little wide eyed and flustered. "I am certain my reputation can handle it." His tongue was agilely chasing down a particular bit of ice-cream and Dawn saw her mother watch the flickering tip of it with a slight flush on her face.

That one went under the 'Things adults do I will probably figure out in a few years' as well as the 'Must tell Buffy to make her groan.' heading.

Then he looked at Dawn. "So, want to go to the ballet?" He winked at her, showing her he knew she'd been watching him closely.

Dawn squealed. "Yes!" She threw her arms around Simon. "Thank you for taking us!" She carefully kept her cone away from his shirt. Simon took the cone from her and Dawn moved to hug her mother with more vigour. "And thank you for letting me go."

Joyce gave her daughter a cold lipped kiss on the forehead. "It is my pleasure dear. Now finish your ice-cream before it melts."

"Okay." Dawn started licking enthusiastically. "So have you been to a ballet before?"

Simon smiled. "Yes indeed I have. I have even seen Swan Lake performed before."

"Cool! Where, New York?"

"St Petersburg, the Marinskii Theatre."

Dawn's eyes grew very wide. "No way..." She whispered the words in awe.

Simon shrugged. "It's one advantage of having to travel for my job."

"Wow. So what are you going to wear?" She looked at her mother.

"I've sent for appropriate evening wear." Simon said deadpan.

Dawn glared at Simon. "Not you silly! Mom!"

Joyce gave her daughter a stern look. "Dawn Summers! You will not call Simon silly."

Dawn gave the man next to her a glance and sniffed. "I will when he acts like it. Someone has to do it."

Joyce chuckled and Simon sighed, making a sitting bow to Dawn. "I concede my lady. Please have mercy upon me."

Dawn started eating her cone and the ice-cream caught within it, glancing sideways at him. "Oh, ok. You help me with my homework after all." She swung her legs as she finished her cone, got up, looked at the playground longingly and then with puppy eyes at the adults. Joyce laughed. "Go play dear. We'll get you when we need to leave."

Dawn nodded happily and ran off.

Joyce finished her own ice-cream and waited for Simon to finish his before laying her head on his lap once more. She sighed contentedly as he picked up the book again, starting to read in a warm soothing voice about the machinations at the Roman Imperial court in the days of Claudius as he stroked her hair.


	5. Chapter 5

**Reviews are welcome**

Chapter 5: Nesting and fast moves

The teens made their way into the Summers home. Simon was at the table with Dawn, using calipers to measure the distance between state capitols on a large road map. A sheet of paper with numerous calculations and Dawn's tongue tip caught between her teeth as she juggled the calipers showed that most of the work was being done by her, even if the first calculation was marked with Simon's bold fountain pen written hand. A pile of notes on the table showed that railroads had been given attention as well, with a few famous tunnels and bridges mentioned.

Joyce gave the three a warm smile and a nod. "You'll be staying for dinner Xander? I've got meatloaf enough." She winked at Willow. "And all kosher too."

Willow blushed. "O-oh no need to go to such trouble…" Joyce gave her a glance and a quick step took her next to the stammering red head, light squeeze around the shoulders brought reassurance to the girl. "No trouble at all. It would be very impolite for a houseguest to be forced to eat something that does not agree with a lifestyle choice."

Dawn perked up and Joyce sighed. "No Dawn; that does not mean founding the Church of eating Twinkies gets you out of eating Brussels sprouts!"

Dawn pouted and Buffy laughed. "It will never work Dawn. Never did for the Church of the Holy Chocolate Mousse either."

Xander looked at Joyce a trifle uncertainly as the sibling banter went on. "If its okay, yeah. I'd like to. Thank you Ms Summers."

"Good. Growing boys need a lot of healthy food. Study group went well? Nothing left from the box?" Buffy exchanged looks with her friends.

"Sorry mom all finished."

Joyce chuckled. "It's why I packed them dear. Dawn got ice-cream. Anyway I don't think it will be a problem. There's still some left."

Xander smiled hopefully. "Growing boys need a lot of junk food too?" Joyce ruffled his hair affectionately and Xander looked at her with large eyes. "After the growing boy eats a proper supp…dinner." She glanced at Simon who smirked at her involuntary Briticism.

Willow smiled and sat next to Dawn. "So how was your day Dawnie?"

Dawn looked up with the most radiant smile that Buffy had seen on her for months. "Simon is taking mom and me to the ballet next week!"

Buffy gawped. "Seriously? I thought it was sold out?" She gave Simon a startled look.

He nodded. "Seriously."

"Wow." She rose and hugged Dawn. "That's great. I'm so happy for you Dawn!"

Dawn grinned. "Yeah. It's totally awesome!"

Joyce cleared her throat. "And it is time for dinner. Shall we repair to the dining room?" She said the latter part in a plummy British accent and Simon gave her an amused glance.

"But certainly Ms Summers." He gave her his arm in an old fashioned and seemingly unconscious gesture and they walked into the dining room arm in arm. The teens exchanged glances, rolling their eyes and followed, carrying the food.

The meal was eaten in the dining room and the conversation was mostly taken up by questions about the ballet. Xander managed to eat two huge servings of potatoes and meatloaf with salad as Joyce looked on in maternal amusement. They broke up after dinner and clearing the table, Joyce and Simon loading the dishwasher while the children went upstairs for more homework and other school preparations.

Dawn was packing her bag for school when there was a knock at her door. At her yodel to enter the door opened and showed Simon who somewhat furtively entered. "Dawn, I need a favour."

Dawn gave him a curious look. "Like what?"

"I need your mother's clothing measurements. Can you get them for me?"

Dawn giggled. "You're getting her a dress for the ballet!"

"I did say I had sent for appropriate evening wear. Have to keep up the family honour." He shrugged.

Dawn nodded thoughtfully; then smiled. "Our measurements are all downstairs in a drawer the closet in the dining room. I'll get them for you."

"Thank you Dawn."

"You'll have to keep mom distracted."

Simon winked at her. "I can do that."

"Okay. Do I get a dress?"

"I don't think I'd get that past your mother right now." He looked regretful. "But your mother says the one she made is quite suitable."

Dawn nodded eagerly. "Yeah, she worked hard on that, it's really pretty. Want to see it?"

Simon smiled and was duly shown the dress. He took careful note of its cut and colour before he left the room.

Dawn filled up her book bag, then wandered downstairs into the empty dining room, rummaged in a drawer and came up with a Manila folder which she knew contained her mother's most recent measurements, as well as her own and Buffy's. After a little thought she shrugged, folded all three papers together and replaced the folder itself. She was going to get a scolding anyway, so she might as well really deserve it. Aunt Lolly's notes regarding the fact her sister ought to lose some weight from her hips were not going to make it _that_ much worse. She took a pack of cards out of the drawer as well, walked into the sitting room and saw her mother receiving a fairly passionate kiss in the kitchen. Buffy, Willow and Xander where talking upstairs and Dawn slipped into the kitchen and observed the adults for a bit. Both had their eyes closed. One of her mother's hands was rather insistently buried in Simon's hair the other was wandering down his back, stroking him softly through his shirt. Simon had both of his in her mother's short blonde locks, running his fingers through them with abandon. Dawn thought he had needed very little encouragement to distract her mother. Nor had it been very difficult. She filed this one under 'things that will make Buffy pound her head on the table.' She still had to have a conversation with her sister about the goings on in the park.

She cleared her throat.

"Anyone for a card game?"

Her mother pushed herself away from Simon, blushing and breathing rather heavily and Dawn noted that Simon, despite having instigated the distraction was doing the same.

Joyce glared at her youngest daughter, who was to her eye, smirking rather widely. "Ah, Dawn, erm, maybe in a minute Simon and I have to finish errr…"

"Canoodling?" Dawn asked it with honest curiosity and Simon started laughing. Joyce glared at him too.

"That and getting the coffee ready. Go sit at the table, we'll be right there."

Simon carried in a loaded tray a minute or so later. Dawn passed him the papers and he tucked them carefully away. She winked at him and stage whispered. "Nice distraction."

Simon gave her an amused look, winking back. Dawn was a touch disappointed he did not blush.

Joyce came out of the kitchen and the three began a game of Go fish, which was joined after a while by Buffy, Xander and Willow and ended only after Xander had to go home and Dawn to bed.

It was Monday morning and the Summers family was getting ready for school and work. At exactly seven in the morning a gentleman dressed in a grey linen suit had presented himself at the kitchen door with a box with seven bagels and a grin. Two bagels were to be transported, at her mother's orders, to the library for the feeding of the 'hungry males' and the others were for the immediate consumption by those present. Much to the amusement of her youngest and slightly to the dismay of her eldest Joyce had greeted the visitor with a gentle kiss on the lips that promised rather more. Buffy would swear she saw a flicker of tongue and had proceeded to watch the two with eagle eyes.

Buffy and Willow were ready to leave and Simon would drive them to school and Joyce to the Gallery, then swing by Dawn's school to present himself to the redoubtable miss Mellowes for early break. Dawn was rather looking forward to showing off her mother's new boyfriend. Her referring to him by that appellation had made Buffy groan in spite of herself and Joyce blush. But neither Joyce nor Simon had denied it.

The drive to the gallery was short and Joyce spent it studying the man next to her. His hands were sure on the steering wheel and the gear shift. "So when do I see yours?"

She blushed at his surprised glance and the sniggers from the back seat. "Apartment! I meant your apartment!"

Simon laughed. "We can go by there before lunch. Not really interesting, just a couple of newly refurbished rooms, a couch, a bed and a stereo. Oh, and a rather large pile of books."

"I don't know, you can tell a lot about a man from looking at his books."

Simon smiled at her. "Very well, before lunch. Pick you up at 11.30? or 12.00?"

Joyce nodded. "12.00 will be fine" He pulled up before the gallery and she kissed his cheek and looking back at the grinning teens, met his eyes and then kissed him fully on the lips. "See you at lunch."

Buffy groaned. Willow 'aahed' in romantic admiration before remembering she was sixteen and groaning as well.

Simon drove off as Joyce opened the door. The girls sniggered again as he kept glancing in his rear view mirror for a last glimpse of her. They reached the school soon after and the girls got out, walking up the stairs to enter the school. Cordelia was discussing a new bit of gossip with Harmony.

"And my dad says that there are like three dozen construction workers and restorers and earth moving equipment and like a ton of gardeners."

"So they going to put apartments in there?"

"Dad says some rich dude from up East has bought it as a pied-à-terre. To live in."

"The whole manor? Alone?"

"Yeah, dad says there was this guy there and he turns out to be the butler! A real butler, can you imagine!"

Buffy and Willow arrived at the door to the library at this point and went in. "Hey Xander, 'morning Giles?" What's new?"

Giles looked up worriedly. "Xander told me that a large property known as Banker's Manor is being renovated. I've been trying to track down if there is any mystical reason why anyone would want to live there. As far as I can tell it lies on the convergence of at least three ley lines. And the surrounding park and gardens has several powerful mana points. Willow, could you check the Council records?"

Buffy swallowed, reminded of her encounter with her first Witch. "Oh goody. More magick."

Willow sat down at the computer and hacked into the needed files. "Right. Here we go. Property colloquially known as Banker's manor. Number 1 Gold Rush Avenue. No county taxes owed due to a large loan to set up the city of Sunnydale. Park open to the public unless the house is inhabited by the Family. Bla bla. Request for a full restoration and refurbishment about every 30 years. Kept in pretty good shape, except for the gardens. Call outs by police to deal with burglars and gangs. Sunnydale Private security provides on site protection, called in the cops numerous times. Owned by…" Her eyes widened. "Meier family trust."

Very slowly everyone in the room turned towards Buffy. Buffy was looking stunned. "Hey, don't look at me! I didn't know either! I'll ask him tonight, ok? Remind me Will?"

Giles nodded, taking of his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "It may be very innocent. Ley line convergences and mana points are quite often very beautiful. It may just be that."

Buffy swallowed. "God I hope so. I really couldn't bear for Simon to be a warlock or something. It would devastate mom. And Dawn too."

Willow looked sad and a little frightened. "I'm sure it will be fine, he'll have a perfectly sensible explanation. Nothing supernatural about it whatsoever."

Buffy sat down. Her day had just got a little darker a little more quickly than she had thought it would.

Simon arrived at the Elementary school shortly before the break and sat down on a bench facing the swings, reading the _Washington Post_. He seldom read the whole paper, an employee selected such items as Dr Meier should read and he had rarely any time to read more. A few children ran out into the playground as soon as the bell rang and ignored him, as he did to them. Dawn came out talking busily with a girl Simon believed had to be Janice of the unknown last name, whom he had briefly met in the park.

The girls walked over and sat on either side of him and he looked at them in turn. "Ladies."

Dawn gave him a grin. "I told Janice about the ballet. She's sooo jealous."

Janice blushed and glared at her friend. Dawn looked a bit contrite. "So I was wondering, if there is another ballet some day, maybe she could come along?"

Obviously this had not yet been discussed with Janice who looked both surprised, mortified and delighted. Simon laughed. "We shall see what can be arranged."

A kind looking middle aged lady of considerable girth left the school building, approaching the bench. She held out a hand to him and he accepted it.

"Shannon Mellowes." She had a strong Scottish accent.

"Simon Mayer. Delighted to meet you." He bent slightly at the middle as he spoke.

Ms Mellowes gave him an amused grin. "Likeways. I must admit I had to laugh at Dawn's inclusion of Edinburgh. And her reasoning for it."

"All this devolution is a terrible thing. I blame Sean Connery."

Ms Mellowes laughed. "I don't suppose you'd care to talk about some of these capitals for geography one day? I find it works better if someone who's been there talks about them…"

Simon smiled. "I'll take it under consideration. I must admit I find the notion of speaking in front of a horde of eleven year olds quite frightening."

Ms Mellowes put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You get used to it." She winked at him and went to break up a scuffle between a few boys.

Dawn gave Simon a quick hug. "Thanks for coming by."

"You're most welcome. I'll come and pick you up this afternoon."

"Okay, Janice too?"

Simon scratched his head. "Well, let me see, you, Janice, your mother, Buffy, Willow, possibly Xander. I fear it would be a bit crowded."

"We can travel in the trunk…" Dawn tried her pouty puppy look.

Simon sighed. "I'll discuss it with your mother. I won't promise more than that." He ruffled Dawn's hair. "See you later Aurora, Janice."

"Thanks Simon, later."

He could hear Janice inquiring after the Aurora-thing as he walked away and he smiled.

He swung by the hospital and was asked to consult on the case of little boy with a strange case of breathlessness and diagnosed a severe allergic reaction, most likely to a type of local pollen. It was a satisfying conclusion to his morning and he drove to the gallery to pick up Joyce in a good mood. Joyce instructed Marianne to open the gallery if she wasn't back on time and Marianne smiled indulgently. Joyce got in the car with a slight blush on her face.

"Just drive before she tells me to be home by eleven and not to let you to get too fresh."

Simon gave her an amused glance. "You mean there is a chance you'd let me?"

Joyce gave him a mock scowl. "Hush you, and drive."

Simon laughed and drove, bantering to and fro with her until they reached his apartment building. He courteously held the door for her and they entered. An elderly woman sat on a chair by a small table in the hall, reading a book.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Bryant."

"Good afternoon Dr Mayer. A gentleman left a package for you." She gestured at a large brown cardboard box. Simon looked at the handwriting and sighed.

"Tall, African American gentleman? Very polite and distinguished?"

Mrs. Bryant smiled. "Very polite indeed."

Simon muttered a few imprecations under his breath, picking up the box. "Thank you Mrs. Bryant. I hope it was no trouble?"

"None whatsoever Dr Mayer. I always sit here, as you know."

"I do, nevertheless, my thanks." He carried the box easily up the stairs to the door of the right hand apartment, put it down, reached into his trouser pocket, extracted a leather key case, took a key from it and opened the front door. He gestured for Joyce to precede him. "Welcome to my humble home."

Joyce entered and saw a hall with four doors opening off it, one standing open leading to a bare sitting room. A couch, a high end stereo and a low table with several piles of books on them made up all the furnishings with the exception of a lamp by the couch. A phone sat on the table but it was obviously not plugged in. The carpet was light grey and the walls slightly off white and light blue grey curtains hung at the windows.

"Comfy." She gave him an amused glance. He looked embarrassed.

"I was hoping not to spend much time here, except sleeping."

Joyce nodded at the box. "So what's got you so riled about that? And you obviously know who left it."

"Miller." He spoke the name as if the worst of Satan's servants had decided to come by for a visit.

"And Miller is?"

"My butler. Estate manager really."

Joyce blinked. "So you have a butler? And why does he leave packages for you?"

Simon rolled his eyes in annoyance. "He thinks I'm unable to do for myself. It's probably a care package."

Joyce gave him a comforting pat. "Shall we unpack it in the kitchen?" Simon put the box down.

"I'll go make a cup of coffee, just put it all on the table. I can move it too the kitchen later. There's probably underwear in there as well. It's not as if I don't know how to use a bloody washing machine!"

Joyce smiled indulgently as he stomped off to his kitchen and used her key to rip the tape of the box. There was a label, very carefully written in a very clear hand. She ripped through that as well. Opening the box the first layer that was revealed were sealed ziplock bag with five pairs of boxers and five shirts. Joyce smiled and placed the underwear on the table. * Well that answers the question of boxers or briefs.* The next layer was coffee, earl grey, Darjeeling and Lapsong souchong teas, cans and jars of jam and jellies, a tin of English custard powder, Swiss chocolate, Belgian chocolate, Dutch chocolate, high quality Dutch cocoa, a large bag of small marshmallows, a small jar of marmalade and two Dutch cheeses, Edam and Gouda. And socks, twelve pairs, again in ziplock bags.

Below that was another taped up box. She shrugged, placing it on the table. Simon was still puttering in the kitchen and she assumed he was trying to get the coffee maker to work.

"Simon! There's a sealed box in here! And a whole load of food. And some underwear!"

Simon walked in then, carrying a tray with two cups of coffee and what looked like fresh baked slices of cherry pie.

"Where did that come from?" Joyce pointed at the pie.

"I baked it this morning." He sat the tray down, purposely pushing the neatly ironed underwear of the table. Joyce smiled and picked it up again.

"Simon, you're being childish."

He gave her a look. "My staff seems to think I'm unable to do anything for myself. It gets a touch annoying at times."

She leaned into him. "Especially when you're trying to convince the lady you're wooing that you're oh so normal?"

"It may be considered slightly off putting to realize that there is not just a man who woos but a butler and full staff to take on as well."

"Simon, I figured there might be as soon as you told me about the multiple billions. If I'd wanted to run I'd have done it then."

He smiled. "I suggest we have some coffee and pie. I have bread and stuff, so we can lunch here or go out, whatever you prefer."

Joyce drank her coffee and ate her pie, which was quite good while Simon muttered at the groceries. "Ah yes, I've only been drinking this brand of coffee for twenty years, it's not as if I'd know what to buy."

She smiled and ruffled his hair. "Simon…I'm sure your ego can handle this. Now what is in the sealed box?"

"Probably spices. Miller would seal them from the rest of the box to prevent contamination." He rolled his eyes. "He tends to forget I spent years as a medical student eating far worse."

"Can I open it?"

He shrugged. "By all means, if you're interested in pepper and cloves."

She broke the tape and a layer of tissue paper was revealed. Underneath the tissue paper were three inlaid wooden boxes, Joyce picked up the largest as Simon was sorting through the chocolate.

"I think Miller bought these for you and the girls. He knows I don't eat _this_ much chocolate." He was handling the chocolate, not really paying her attention. He started looking through the jams.

Joyce smiled and opened the box. Nestled on a bed of white satin was a necklace made from interlocking twisted esses of gold, hung with small golden hearts, each set with a red or rose coloured gem. A single larger heart hung at the bottom, set with cabochon cut red stones.

She turned the box to him. "Simon…"

He glanced at it and first turned red and then very white. "Oh God…"

"Simon, this is a family Love necklace."

He put the jar of apple jelly down with a trembling hand. "Yes"

"If I count these there will be fourteen hearts besides the large heart?"

He buried his face in his hands. "Yes."

"This is supposed to be given to the woman the eldest male of the house wants to marry…To his intended. As a betrothal gift."

"Yes."

"Simon…"

"Oh God…"

"This is going a bit fast for me."

"Yes."

"I notice that you did not say 'for me as well'." She said it in a dry tone of voice.

"Joyce, I may not have intended for you to see that but it does signify what I want." His voice was muffled by his hands.

She sighed, running her hand over the heavy gold links, the little hearts so delicately forged showing the progression and changing taste of four centuries of goldsmithing.. "Is it real? It _looks_ fifteenth century."

"Yes. It is."

Joyce gently put the box down. "It's beautiful."

"Thank you. Glad you like it."

"What's in the other boxes?"

"Probably the other nails in my coffin."

"Can I open them?"

"You may as well." He sounded completely despondent and defeated.

"Simon…Look at me."

There were tears at the corners of his eyes and he looked as if he was about to break. Her heart went out to him. She took his face in her hands and kissed him gently on the lips. "Well at least I know what your intentions are." Her lips twitched. "Nor am I averse or opposed to them, just a bit surprised. I'm still not running."

His eyes grew wide. "You're not telling me to…"

"No. I'm not telling you leave, I rather like you. Rather a lot. But…Simon, how much of this…" She gestured at the three boxes, "Is the pressure of your family? Do you want to marry me to safeguard your good name? Your line?"

He snorted incredulously. "Nothing. And no and no"

She bit her lip and ran her hand over the smaller boxes, glancing at him uncertainly. "Ummm…"

"Curious?" Now that he knew she was not telling him to leave, to back off, he seemed to be recovering his equilibrium.

"Very." She took a deep breath and opened the smaller box, it contained an old cut ruby ring, the large central ruby surrounded by what she was certain were red diamonds, set in deep yellow gold. Her appraiser's eyes caught the small maker's mark. "Charles Lewis Tiffany's personal mark…" She almost breathed the words.

"Yes. It's been the engagement ring for several generations."

She hesitated and then opened the other box. It contained a heavier ring, set with a single wine red garnet the size of a thumbnail. The goldwork was good and the setting fine. "The old engagement ring. That's been in use since the 1600's."

"They're all gorgeous."

"But it's too soon. I can't believe Miller including them."

"Indeed. They should be in a safe. The love necklace alone, I've never seen, or heard of, it's like being sold, this old; with your provenance…It's worth hundreds of thousands. At least. The rings…"

He shrugged. "Most of the family jewels are on loan to museums. It's not as if there are any ladies to wear them all. These usually reside in the vault at home."

Joyce smirked. "Is it hidden behind the Rembrandt?"

He mock scowled at her. "No, at the bank. I try to keep the number of portable valuables in the house as low as possible."

She ran a hand over the necklace again, then suddenly turned towards him and kissed him passionately. He returned the kiss and after she moved away from him, panting, she whispered in his ear, gently nipping his lobe. "Not yet…but I think in the future…yes."

He groaned and kissed her again. He barely got her to the gallery in time. And they had to buy a sandwich at a bakery for lunch. Marianne grinned a lot.


	6. Chapter 6

**My apologies this took so long. I had some problems with uploading. The current story is practically finished and the chapters will be posted regularly over the coming weeks. There is one minor problem I have with the timeline and I will put it to a vote here: **

**Is Buffy 15 or sixteen in season one? Her birthday is supposed to be 01-17-1980. And I can find no reason to suppose she started her first year in Sunnydale other than the normal first day of school. If so, I need to write birthday episode. I'm personally inclined to 15, since that means I'll get to write a birthday episode.**

**Another point, some of you may wonder why episode 8 is the cut off point, This is due to the length of the current work and primarily to the fact that AU/Crossover will really take over at that point. ( I just could not resist.) I may start posting this at Twisting the Hellmouth too.**

**Reviews are welcome**

Chapter 5: A night at the Ballet

The car was full of teen. Simon dropped of Janice first and Dawn then squeezed, despite loud complaints from her sister, onto the back seat with Buffy, Willow and Xander. They arrived at Revello drive shortly afterwards and the teens watched with amusement as the adults swung into a seemingly synchronized cooking action, with both slicing and dicing the vegetables, stirring pots and basting meat. Simon was unexpectedly good at peeling potatoes. A pointed look from Joyce sent them all scurrying upstairs to start homework, once the giggling became unbearable, though a meek return by Buffy some time later did garner permission to sit at the dining room table and work on French composition with Simon.

This allowed her to ask about the Manor.

"So…you heard they started renovating Banker's Manor?"

"Sorry?" He looked surprised. "Is this something I should know about?"

"Well it's just the largest house in Sunnydale, huge park, you own it, and now people are in there renovating and landscaping and doing stuff."

"Oh, you mean Hooghwater Huis. Yes, that's being renovated." He shook his head, scowling. "I prefer an apartment, but my staff apparently feels I need to live in some splendour."

"Live in some splendour…you're going to live there?" Buffy looked startled.

He shrugged. "You're asking to visit the city of green one, as in _vert un_, not the city of Verdun." He pointed at her letter and Willow gazed at the paper over Buffy's shoulder. "And possibly, though highly unlikely. But I would have to see it first, at least the inside, I've only looked at it from the outside and that was just as I was passing through. Just before my engine blew up as a matter of fact."

"So why?"

"Why what?"

"Live there. Duh!"

"It's a family thing. I'm supposed to live in a huge mansion or manor surrounded by a staff of servants and ordering my business with as little actual work as possible." He said it with a touch of bitterness.

"No other reason?"

He shrugged. "None I can think of. Actually, I arranged for a two bed room apartment. My staff arranged for the renovation of Hooghwater Huis."

Willow tilted her face. "Why do you call it that?"

"It's the name of the place. We've always given our larger homes Dutch names. The manor in New York is called Vlugwater, Fleetwater. The one in Vermont is called Herfsttij, that's Autumn's Coming, changing of the seasons. The great house in Britain is Heilig water, Holy water; it's on the grounds of a former abbey. Hooghwater Huis means High water House. I think it has to do with a waterfall on the property. No big secret."

"You pronounce it…well not American." Willow was curious, she rather liked languages and this one sounded similar to German, but different.

"Like I said, it's Dutch. Just like my name. We've used it as a private language in the family for a while now." He winked.

"Private language? How many people speak Dutch anyway?" Willow knew there could not be that few Dutch people.

"About thirty million if you include the derivative languages I think, but it means a language you can speak freely in front of the servants."

Xander's eyes widened. "You've got servants?"

Simon muttered something under his breath, apparently in Dutch. "Yes. Sometimes I think I have too many. Now why is it of interest to you that Hooghwater is being renovated?"

"Uhmmm…Well there's a lot of gossip, a lot of talk and well you know, we sort of wondered if you were going to move in there…" Buffy looked at him hoping he'd think it be natural teen curiosity, not a question for a different reason.

"Buffy, the way you started this conversation makes it quite obvious that there is something mystical about your questioning…Are there ley lines there or something?"

Buffy blinked. "Yes. Didn't you know?"

Simon shrugged. "Not especially. But the family has a habit of buying and protecting areas where there is strong magic. If you own a place, have the connection of ownership with it, it makes it more difficult for others to abuse the power that resides there. It's a very old and important principle of magick, proprietary power. It is the same sort of thing as the power that prevents vampires from entering homes."

"And you don't use the leylines?"

Simon rubbed his chin. "As little as possible. It takes a good deal of skill to use the power of leylines, it is far stronger if more controlled than pulling the power from the surrounding area."

"So you're a witch?" Willow seemed rather excited by the prospect.

"I wouldn't call it myself that. I am a student of magick, I have a great deal of knowledge and very little power."

"Oh. So you couldn't teach me?" Willow had been curious about magic ever since she'd found out about Amy Madison's mother.

"WILLOW!" Buffy was aghast.

Simon gave the redhead a thoughtful look, raising a hand to silence Buffy, looking over his shoulder to see if the cry had summoned Joyce. He did not continue until he was certain the Slayer's mother was not going to enter.

"I suppose I could. But there would have to be some fairly strict rules. And no actual casting until we've laid some pretty basic foundations, explored the theory of magic."

Willow nodded eagerly. "Ok, that's cool. Theory of magic is cool. Practice of magic is cool. So can you teach me to use ley lines? I mean it would be pretty great to be able to do that. And make potions? And amulets and stuff? It would be really awesome if I could make Buffy a magical sword or a stake or something!"

Simon put a hand over her mouth, stopping her babbling, smiling as he did so. "Maybe. Eventually, if you take the study of the theory seriously enough. But I will not teach you a single spell unless you give me a faithful promise, right now, not to use a spell of any kind" he stressed the words, "without my permission. What may look like innocent fun or nothing of consequence to you can have grave repercussions. I've seen too many people die or be broken because of miscast magick." He took his hand away as Willow's mouth stilled and her face grew even more pale.

"D-die?"

"Sometimes death is the kinder fate." He gave her a serious look. "Willow, magick is a force of nature. It's like the sea, like a river, but much more powerful than either. You don't put an untrained girl into a sailing boat in New York harbour and send her on a trip to Africa. If you really want to do this I will teach you, but only on my terms."

Willow nodded, still eager, but also thoughtful.

"So you faithfully promise to not cast a single spell without my supervision or permission?" He held out his hand, palm towards her.

Willow, after a little hesitation, placed her hand against his. "I faithfully promise." To her surprise, and by their astonished gasps, Xander's and Buffy's as well a tiny trickle of white energy flowed around the joined hands, circling their fingers one by one until it faded away.

"W-what was that?" Willow's eyes were very wide and her face slightly flushed.

"That means you have magic, or the ability to use it at any rate. The light shows the forging of the apprentice bond."

"Oh. Is that bad?" Willow suddenly looked worried.

"No. It just means I'll know when you are casting magic. Especially without my permission." He gave her a stern look. "Which will lead to us having a very firm conversation. If you take my meaning."

Willow gulped. "Yes sir."

"Very well, we'll set up some sort of teaching schedule. And now I believe we were writing letters? And conjugating verbs?"

Buffy nodded. "I suppose. Can we come along when you're going to look at the house?"

Simon nodded. "I see no problems; I'll tell the office to arrange sufficient hard hats. Want Dr. Giles to come along? Put his mind at ease?"

Buffy grinned. "Yeah, ok. We'll tell him tomorrow."

The teens went back to work, Simon quietly suggesting alternate phrasings and pointing out grammatical errors.

Dinner was a lively affair, Dawn asking excitedly after the ballets Simon had seen, the concerts he'd been to, and the people he knew. Buffy was rather amused at the way in which her little sister demanded a move by move description of some people called Nureyev and Fonteyn dancing Marguerite and Armand. Joyce rather wickedly helped her youngest with the fierce questioning. Simon looked rather put upon near the end.

After dinner Simon and Joyce loaded the dishwasher and did such dishes as should be done by hand and Dawn watched TV while Buffy, Willow and Xander went out to drop Xander off at his home. Dawn observed that her mother's hair was just a little mussed when the two adults entered the sitting room and gave them a friendly grin. "Nice canoodle?"

Joyce blushed. She wondered if sending one's eleven year old to bed for teasing her mother about kissing in the kitchen could be considered responsible parenting. Simon just smirked, winked at Dawn and said "Yes, very."

Dawn nodded contentedly and snuggled into her mother as they watched a bit of the early movie. Buffy and Willow reappeared and went upstairs to do some more homework. Dawn went to bed without argument when Joyce told her it was time and got tucked in. Joyce went to say goodnight to her daughter and guest and Willow lay down on the camp bed immediately, with a shy smile on her face. Joyce knelt again, tucked the girl in, again kissing her forehead, and then, looking a question at Buffy got silent permission. If it made Willow happy, Buffy would get tucked in. She was not going to tell that it felt good to be tucked in again, nice and safe.

As Joyce was about to turn of the light Buffy smirked at her from her pillow. "So, are you having a guest in your room?"

Joyce smiled. "No dear. A little too soon. I'll keep you informed about the matter however. Did you want details?" Buffy groaned, Willow emitted something between a groan and a giggle. Joyce laughed and flicked off the lights. "Good night dears."

The next morning before class Buffy and Willow went to talk to Giles. The librarian was standing in the office and Ms. Calendar, the computer science teacher, was seated at his desk, humming and tapping at the keyboard of Giles' office computer.

"Oh, really Rupert stop grouching. A computerized database of your books is not going to turn them into slavering beasts. It will make it easier to find them."

"It will diminish the ability of librarians and borrowers to fathom the depths of the Dewey Decimal system, and hinder the training of their faculties of recollection."

Ms Calendar rolled her eyes. "We digitized the entire library at MIT when I studied there Rupert. I hardly think our collective intelligence quotient dropped. At least not from that. Booze and skittles yes, digitized libraries, no."

"I'm sure that all you lovely physicists and mathematicians think it wonderful, but the gentler arts of literature and history are a wholly different thing." His voice was scathing.

"Why Rupert… Did you just call me lovely?" She lowered her lashes at him coquettishly.

Giles blushed and stammered. "I-I'll be in the stacks, o-ordering some books." He stepped out of the office, leaving the two teens looking at the grinning computer science teacher in bemusement.

"Good morning Willow, Buffy."

"Good morning Ms. Calendar. Ummm…"

"Just teasing Mr. Giles. He can be so stuffy. As if his books will be hurt by a digital database…" She rolled her eyes. "Would you mind closing the door so I can work in peace? Mr. Giles muttering imprecations at me for perceived insults to the 'gentler arts' is not conducive to a good work environment."

Buffy grinned and closed the door, then walking to the muttering librarian, hiding deep within the stacks. "Really Giles. Flirting so early in the morning?"

Giles flushed. "I was NOT flirting. It was a derogatory remark which Ms Calendar chose to give an entirely different meaning."

"Why Giles… Derogating so early in the morning?" Willow giggled at Buffy's dead pan delivery and the watcher gave both of them a glare.

"Is there a reason you are here? Other than teasing me?"

"Talked to Simon last night. We're welcome to go visit the Manor with him. He wasn't aware of the Leylines but wasn't surprised either. Seems his family buys areas thick with ley lines for reasons of propane magic?"

"Proprietary perhaps?" Giles stated after a moments thought and a glance at Willow, who nodded. He was getting used to Buffy speak. He just wasn't quite sure if she wasn't doing it to annoy him on purpose.

"Yeah. And he's going to teach me magick!" Willow nodded enthusiastically.

Giles blinked. "Teach you magick? Can he do that? Is he a witch?"

Buffy shrugged. "He says not, just a lot of knowledge of magick. He'll teach her the basics and the rules or something."

"I see. Well I suppose he can teach you the theory…"

"Yeah. I put my hand on his and there was this white light that ran around them and it was all tingly!"

Giles looked a touch worried. "An apprentice bond?" He took off his glasses and wiped them on his handkerchief. "Good lord."

"Is that bad?"

"No, no not at all. Or it shouldn't be. The light was white?"

"All glowy and white. And it tingled." Willow smiled radiantly.

"Yes, you said. Well it is very traditional. Some of the oldest magick using families in the world use it. That means… well that he is a member of a very old magick using family. He ought to be able to teach you a great deal, even if his power is limited."

"H-he said magick is very dangerous…I have to learn the rules before I cast spells." Willow looked just a touch rebellious through her apprehension.

"Magick _is_ very dangerous and Dr Meier is very wise to insist on the basics first." Giles relaxed a bit, putting his glasses back on.

"So ummm… In the old magickal families… How do teachers punish pupils who disobey them?" Buffy could not resist asking, glancing slyly at her friend.

Giles was looking at the book he was about to classify. "Hmmm? Oh, usually a form of corporeal punishment. The families I know of in Europe usually employ spanking or switching I believe."

Willow went very red and 'eeped', almost running out of the library. Buffy had to lean on the table to prevent her collapse from laughter and Giles looked up, surprised. "Was it something I said?"

Buffy waved her hands in defeat and went to catch her first class.

So the first days of the week passed without singular events. On Tuesday Buffy caught her mother sitting on Simon's lap on the living room couch while they kissed and had mild teen hysterics. Willow discussed the tasks of a yearbook committee with Joyce. Buffy and Xander soldiered on with French, aided by Simon, Joyce and Willow. Xander ate with them.

On Wednesday Simon took Joyce out for a coffee after dinner. Willow and Buffy sat downstairs and worked on their history assignment, a project on the Founding Fathers.

The doorbell rang and Buffy rose from her homework to open it, glancing at Willow. "Wonder who that is?"

Opening the door revealed a large white van and a uniformed delivery man holding a clipboard. "Good evening miss, is this the Summers residence? Are you Miss Buffy or Miss Dawn Summers?"

"Err. Yes?"

"I have a number of packages for Ms Joyce Summers." He glanced at his clipboard and smiled. "To be delivered only to the hands of her daughters, Miss Buffy or Miss Dawn Summers."

"I'm Miss Buffy, I mean Buffy."

The delivery man smiled. "Excellent, succeeded on the first try. Just a moment please." He walked back to the van and retrieved a number of boxes, all white and flat and Buffy realized they were clothing boxes. The delivery man had to make two trips and Buffy signed for each separate package. He smiled at the two wide eyed teens, leaving and driving off quickly.

Buffy and Willow exchanged glances, biting their lips. Finally Buffy could no longer resist and opened the largest box. And envelope was taped to the top of the largest box, addressed to Misses Buffy and Dawn Summers and Miss Willow Rosenberg and Buffy took it off the box. The envelope was of a thick creamy paper with a set of armorial bearings imprinted deep upon it, sealed with red wax which showed an impression of the same arms. Buffy broke the seal, revealing a sheet of paper of the same thick creamy kind. She was unsurprised at seeing Simon's cursive script.

_Dear Buffy, Dawn and Willow,_

_I would greatly appreciate your help in getting your mother to accept these tokens of my esteem. I'm certain all of us together can manage to do so?_

_My kindest regards, Simon_

He didn't write love, Buffy noted, but that would have been a bit presumptuous after only a week. She whistled on her fingers and Dawn's door opened. "Yeah?"

"Dawn! Come down here, we got some planning to do!" Dawn thundered down the stairs in a headlong manner, stopping dead as she saw the huge pile of boxes.

"Cool! They're here." She flushed. "Err… I mean, err… what are those?"

Buffy gave her sister a mock severe look. "I wondered how Simon would have gotten mom's measurements. So, how do you propose we get mom to wear it?" She winked at Willow, not expecting an answer from her sister.

Dawn gave a slow nod. "Well we can leave the boxes here and hope mom's curiosity will get her to open them and that she will accept the gift. Or…" She gave her sister a sly glance. "We get out the dummy and display everything to its full effect."

Buffy gave her little sister a surprised look. "Well now, that is an interesting proposal. Let's see what we've got and…"

She was interrupted as the door opened and her mother walked in from the kitchen. Joyce took in the tableau and sighed in exasperation. "That man!"

Buffy giggled. "Oh yes indeed."

Joyce glared at both her daughters. "Which one of you?"

Buffy took a step forward, hoping to shield her sister from maternal ire. "I cannot tell a lie."

"Yes you can, just not very well." Joyce said dryly. Buffy blushed.

Joyce looked meaningfully at her youngest who started twisting her foot. "I was wondering what the distraction was for…"

This time Dawn blushed. "Oh…" She hadn't realized her mother had heard that.

Willow tried to distract the maternal disapproval from both girls. "There's a note with them…"

Joyce sighed. "Of course there is. Probably Simon begging me to accept this." She strode to the box and extracted the note from the envelope, reading it. She blinked twice. Reread the note. Blinked again. "Oh."

"Mom?" Buffy looked anxious. "What did he write?"

"It's not from Simon."

"What? You have two guys who send you expensive dresses?" Buffy looked amazed.

"No, it's from Hubert de Givenchy."

Buffy's mouth fell open. "_The _Hubert de Givenchy?"

"Yes." She handed the note to Buffy and walked over to the largest box, looking rather dreamy to the girls' eyes, folding away the tissue paper to reveal a marvelous sea green dress that shimmered in the lamplight.

The three girls gathered to read the note, written in an uphill spidery continental script.

'_My dear Ms Summers,_

_Quite some time ago I promised a young man I would design for the lady love of his life a set of dresses to surpass all others. This is the first of that set. No matter what Simon says, I __will__ insist on a personal fitting for the wedding gown._

_With kindest (and most curious) regard Hubert de Givenchy.'_

"Wow." Willow and Buffy chorused as Joyce very slowly removed the magnificent creation from the box.

Cut tight to the upper body and flowing in the skirts with belled sleeves on the upper arms and small touches of chiffon it was a dress of satin and silk and Buffy could see her mother loved it. Her eyes seemed to take on the colour of the dress. She held it against herself and sighed.

"I can't accept it."

To Buffy's surprise it was Dawn who stepped forward. "Why not?"

"Dawn, its far too expensive."

"Well, if I have to be a chaperone, he has to maintain the family honour!"

Joyce felt her mouth quirk. "Is that how he sold you on this?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Of course not. Simon's a gentleman! Gentleman always give ladies they woo dresses! It's in all of those old movies we watch."

Buffy had to stifle her laughter as she looked at her mother's amazed face. "Well mom, I think you should see everything before you send it back."

Joyce sighed. She carefully folded the dress back into the box and started opening the others. A pair of handmade leather soled, low heeled satin pumps. Silk stockings, garter, garter belt and a set of underwear she hastily and blushingly put the tissue paper back onto. A light lady's cloak, a small hat, with a chiffon veil, with two matching steel hatpins with emerald heads.

A separate box held a felt and satin dressing gown of pure deep burgundy red with matching slippers and the last box a very sheer white silk and linen nightgown, set with lace and chiffon that she'd closed the lid on minute she realized what it was. Buffy and Willow had caught a glimpse of that, even if they had missed the underwear, and grinned.

A higher cardboard box held a wooden case with several bottles of perfume of different brands: Chanel Nrs 5 and 22, 1714 Eau de Cologne, Royal English leather, Ambre antique, English fern, Mitsouko, Edwardian Bouquet, and something in a bottle with a handwritten label: Joyce, by Floris. She gently removed the stopper and a delicate scent of almonds and vanilla struck her senses. She put the bottle down, restoppering it. A small envelope lay on the bottom of the box that had held the perfume chest and she opened it.

_Joyce my love,_

_I know you are angry with me for sending you this. I know you will point out that this totally breaks your 'nothing too expensive rule'. However needs must and in this case that means that I will not be seen with the woman of my dreams in a place as public as a ballet and not have everyone there to be certain of my intentions. I think I made them clear to you when you found the necklace and the rings, not that you did not know what they meant the minute you saw them._

_Joyce, beloved, I am fourteen years older than you and if you think I may seem hasty it is because I fear every day I live without you, without your love, without the laughter and teasing of you and your daughters. I must admit I never thought I'd fall for three women at the same time. I seem to have done so with very little trouble and with very great speed. I hope you will forgive me for the other two. I think you may eventually._

_A very wise woman once wrote that it is far harder to receive than to give, that gratitude is a very bad basis for a relationship. I fear that in a purely material sense I will always be able to give you more than you can give me. And that you think you should feel grateful for it. And yet what you give me is a chance to redeem my life, reclaim it from the ashes that it has lain in for so long. There is no price that I, or anyone else for that matter, can put on that. I ask you not to do so, or think of it in that way either._

_Reading back what I just wrote it must seem that this, what we have, what we might have, is doomed from the beginning. But I know, and I think you know, that we are not doomed, not cursed, that together we can be happy and make others happy. Joyce I know this seems a big step, but I also know you knew what I intended that first night when I asked you if I might maybe one day date you, I knew for certain the day we spent in the park with Dawn. I am not a man who gives his heart easily, yet I gave it to you on that very first day when you let me help your daughters and drive your infernally modern car._

_Joyce, I love you. Please be the greater person and accept my gifts?_

_Love, Simon_

Joyce took two deep shuddering breaths, trying to hold back her tears. She looked at the three girls who were standing, anxiously gazing at her. She beamed a huge smile at them. "Well, I think I'll need some help getting these boxes upstairs, and hanging this dress before it creases."

The next morning Simon was greeted by Joyce sitting on the back porch swing. "Hubert de Givenchy?" She said it in a toneless voice, arms crossed on her chest as she gave him a dry look.

Simon had the grace to look embarrassed. "He promised me, a long time ago. And he would have been terribly disappointed to find out I had not at least approached him."

"Simon, what bit about the rather simple sentence 'nothing too expensive' fails to connect in your mind?"

Simon gave her an apologetic shrug. "Well too expensive…I do have a considerable fortune and a very large income. So what is too expensive? And for whom? I could have had some dresses of my mother's brought over, or my grandmother's, but they might be considered a bit old fashioned. And then of course there is the fact I do not think even the most expensive dress in the world would be too expensive for you. Too gaudy, probably ugly, but too expensive, never."

She sighed. "I will not wear the dress…unless…" She gave him a wicked grin.

Simon looked hopeful and nervous at the same time. "Unless?"

"Jeans."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Denim, Simon, I want to see you wearing some denim. Nice tight jeans. You want me to wear a princess dress for you, you had better put on some jeans."

Simon looked at her, mouth open, eyes wide. "Joyce…umm, well, if you want me to. But I haven't worn them since, well my father died."

She rolled her eyes. "And I bet you only did that to annoy him. Weren't they comfortable?"

Simon smiled "I suppose so. I assume Miller still has mine somewhere, but I think the model may be slightly out of fashion."

"When did your father die?"

"1971."

"Definitely out of fashion. We'll go shopping. You get to pay. Consider it my vengeance for the underwear and the nightgown."

"Underwear? Nightgown?" Simon seemed honestly confused.

"With the dress. Buffy and Willow have been smirking since yesterday."

His face lit up and he opened his mouth to ask a question. Joyce forestalled him by placing her fingers on his mouth. "You'll just have to be patient and a good boy if you ever want to see me in them…" She grinned wickedly.

She felt his tongue lick at her fingers and his eyes were filled with humour and rather more lust than she had felt directed at her in years. She removed her fingers, noting they trembled slightly and that she felt rather warm. Damn the man! "We'll go shopping during lunch. I expect full cooperation."

He bowed. "Yes ma'am. My credit card and I will be at your service."

She sniffed. "They'd better be." She led him into the kitchen and breakfast.

Joyce sat outside the changing room and smiled. Simon had been sent in, with some trepidation and four pairs of jeans, to try them on one by one. She had also seen a couple t-shirts and sweaters she thought would look good on him. His credit card would get a work out. There was jangling a noise as Simon pushed the curtain aside; he stepped into the store proper in dress shirt, jeans and shoes. The jeans fit him like a second skin. He walked gingerly towards her.

"Turn around."

He glared at her, but complied. A female store clerk gave him an appreciative look and winked at Joyce who solemnly nodded.

"We'll get a couple like these and then some other colours. The model suits you."

"They're a bit tight."

"At least they're not mostly translucent." He was about to make a remark when his face became thoughtful and then seemed to go into rapture as he realized what she was referring to.

"Translucent…"

Joyce could feel a blush rising up her face. "There's a few t-shirts over there you might want to try." She said hastily. He sighed, but dutifully picked a few of them up.

"Can't I at least wear the one with 'Worship me' on it?"

Joyce smiled. "Maybe later. I've seen a few sweaters too."

Simon gave her a smile. "Yes dear. I do own sweaters you know. I live in New York."

The store clerk stifled a laugh and decided to leave the two to their shopping.

Friday afternoon arrived quickly. Dawn was given permission to come home from school several hours early. Simon drove Joyce and Dawn to LA, the Volvo's trunk full of lady's apparel. Dawn fell asleep ten minutes into the drive, a good thing since she would be up much later than usual.

Buffy and Willow would remain and guard the house. Buffy was a touch disappointed and just a teensy bit jealous that Dawn was going, but she did not care for ballet and she figured that Simon would find a similarly gratifying gift for her. And the look of anticipation on Dawn's face had been wonderful to see.

Joyce was a bit surprised when Simon drew up his car in front of an elderly hotel, the Grand Alcazar. An immaculate doorman opened the door for her and Dawn and a porter loaded the boxes and her hard shell airline suitcase and Dawn's flowered suitcase and Simon's ancient leather luggage onto a luggage cart. A parking valet drove the car away with all the reverence of a man driving a Bugatti instead of an elderly Volvo.

The doorman led them into the genteel lobby, great leather club seats surrounding small tables, mostly elderly guests being served coffee, well aged wooden paneling, dark red carpeting and a few shining mirrors and lots of polished brass. It felt like an old gentleman's club. Simon walked up to the reception, Dawn closely in his wake. "Good afternoon Dr Meier. Your usual suite has been reserved."

"Thank you Mr. Yardley." He signed the book, as did Joyce and a rather ecstatic Dawn, who had never done that before. The porter carted the luggage to the elevator and led them to a set of double doors, which he opened, handing the key to Simon. The suite was large, having one master bed room, two smaller bedrooms, a large seating area, a small dining area and a private terrace filled with flowering plants in pots. Simon very firmly steered Joyce to the master bedroom. Joyce took in the beautiful American art deco interior and began to understand why Simon preferred this hotel over more modern ones.

They ate a light dinner in the suite's common room and then went to their rooms to get ready.

The bathroom was sinfully luxurious. She decided she did not have time for a bath before the ballet and took a shower. She was rather surprised when there was a knock at her door. Dawn would not knock and Simon was far too much the gentleman to knock on a lady's door while she was dressing. At least until they were sharing the room. "Come in?"

A woman of about forty, but a well preserved forty entered. "Ms Summers? I'm Alice Lyman, your personal maid for tonight."

"Maid?"

Dr Meier assumed you would want to be helped with dressing, make up and hair…"

Joyce smiled. "Did he now…"

Alice smiled back. "Unless you prefer he zip you into that dress?"

Joyce laughed. "Well it has been a long time since I last was helped dressing. Will you be able to assist me in coifing Dawn as well?"

"But certainly. She has lovely hair. She saw me coming in."

Joyce smiled. Alice proceeded to powder her, adjusting her garters and helping her into the dress and then proceeding to gently dress Joyce's hair. "Your hair has marvelous colour and texture, a bit short for elaborate hairdressing, but very lovely."

"Thank you."

"Do you want to put the jewels on before or after I fetch Miss Dawn?"

"Jewels?"

"Dr Mayer deposited some jewelry in the hotel vault for your use, they have been brought up."

Joyce bit her lip. "Before." Alice smiled indulgently and went into the other room, returning with a safety deposit box from which she took several jewelry boxes.

Joyce opened the boxes and ran an expert's eye over them. "I really should pack my jeweler's glass when I travel with Simon… Hmm, star sapphires set in platinum. Early twenties. Cartier, definite art deco influences." Her auctioneer's mind started ticking over. *It can't be… The Stella sapphires? I've not seen this many Star sapphires in one place together ever!*

Alice gave her a look and Joyce shrugged. "It used to be my job. The box and markings are a dead give away." The necklace was draped around her neck and the earrings and bracelets soon graced her ears and wrists, Joyce chose to forego the tiara and the hat hoping Hubert de Givenchy would forgive her.

She stood up after Alice slipped on her shoes and waited for her youngest daughter to appear.

Dawn was dressed in a blue ensemble, a dark blue dress, covering her shoulders but leaving a bit of back bare, hanging to mid calf , with a same colour blue jacket for when it got cold, both appliquéd with darker blue lace. It was a stylish ensemble for an eleven year old. Dark blue satin ballet flats completed the set.

Dawn froze mouth agape as she saw her mother in full splendour and then walked slowly around her. "Mom, you look beautiful!"

Alice nodded approvingly and settled Dawn before the mirror. "Indeed Miss Dawn. But now it is time to do your hair." She set about braiding, piling and curling Dawn's hair until it was a cascading mass of soft curls down her left shoulder, with a light bun at the back. Dawn looked stunned by her appearance.

Alice looked approvingly at the result in the mirror. "Very nice. Now we need just a touch of powder and rouge." The maid very lightly applied the articles in question. Dawn rose, looking a touch awed. "Wow." She beamed at Alice. "Thank you!"

"Not quite finished yet. Dr Meier thought you might want to borrow these for the night." She took a smaller jewelry box from the deposit box and extracted a single strand necklace of lustrous blue and white pearls from which a net of golden wires hung in which a huge, two inch white pearl was delicately encased. Joyce's eyes widened. She held out a hand and Alice handed the pearls over. Joyce very carefully fastened them around Dawn's neck.

Dawn squealed. "Oh! It's lovely! Thank you!"

"You are most welcome. But you should thank Dr Meier. He should be finished."

Joyce nodded and led Dawn into the sitting area. Simon was reading, rising as soon as the ladies entered. He was wearing a tuxedo of excellent quality and bowed. "Ladies. Your beauty far surpasses my ability to express in mere words."

Dawn smiled. "Thanks. And thanks for letting me wear the necklace. Sorry I can't hug you, but I'm afraid it'd mess up my hair." She touched it to make sure it was still looking good.

"They may be the most beautiful fruit of the sea, but they pale in comparison to the rosy fingered beauty of your Dawn." Dawn blushed.

Joyce gave him look. "Flatterer. "

"I have found it safer to always praise ladies. Will you accompany me downstairs? The car should be waiting" Alice held her light cloak and she slipped it on, Simon picking up his cane, opera cloak and hat. He extended an arm to Joyce, glancing apologetically at Dawn who did not notice and merely walked in stately fashion to the suite door. Alice opened it for them, whispering a few words to Dawn who nodded and smiled. They proceeded to the elevator and into the lobby. A large, long bonneted old fashioned car drove up as they exited the door.

Joyce gave her escort an amused look. "A Duesenburg J? Really Simon."

Simon shrugged. "Denton reminded me that we still had one down here. My father drove it while he was 'out in the hicks.' And with drove I mean his chauffeur did. The gear box was replaced by Rolls Royce, my grandfather insisted. Always practical, grandfather."

"It's yours? Not rented?" Joyce looked startled.

Simon nodded. "Been in the family since it was new. Evening Denton." He nodded at the grey haired driver who opened the rear door of the car for them as he carefully mustered Joyce and Dawn and gave Simon himself a raking glance.

"Good evening Ms Summers, Miss Summers, Dr Meier. May I suggest Ms Summers retie your tie sir, it is slightly more crooked than I think Miller would condone."

Simon rolled his eyes. "Yes Denton." Dawn giggled as the chauffeur carefully gave her his hand to climb into the high car. "Thank you Mr. Denton. I'm sure mom has him well in hand."

Denton shot the girl an amused look. "I suppose she has at that Miss Dawn."

Simon sat in the rear and suffered in silence as Joyce retied his white bowtie. Dawn chattered at him, asking about the seats. "So where are they, exactly?"

"I have honestly no idea Dawn, I haven't been there since the place opened."

"You haven't?" She looked surprised. "Why not?"

Simon shrugged. "The few times I go to social functions I do it in New York or foreign countries. I only came here the first time, instead of my father."

"If I had seats here I'd go as often as I could." She looked wistful.

"I can imagine." Dawn fell silent for a few minutes and then started looking out of the window. Joyce leaned into Simon, whispering into his ear as if sharing sweet nothings. "Simon… When the Medici sold their jewelry…who did they sell it to?"

He groaned before he whispered back. "I should have known you would recognize the necklace."

"The Medici Pearls are hanging around my eleven year old daughter's neck Simon."

"Yes."

"Are you insane? What if someone tries to steal them? Kidnaps her?" She was trying to keep her temper in check. Sweet nothings should not be shrieked and she did not want to worry Dawn. What had possessed her to actually put them on Dawn herself?

"Would you believe that anyone would send their eleven year old daughter out wearing it?"

"If anything happens to her Simon…"

"I'd die first."

She blinked at him. "You mean that, you really would."

"Yes."

She was silent for a bit, thinking deeply. "Simon, when you said their daughter…" She stressed the possessive.

"I may have been a bit presumptuous." He said it defensively.

"Simon, I don't mind. I think I rather like the idea actually. I think Dawn isn't completely against it either."

He gave a relieved chuckle. "Thank you."

"I do want to see the collection Simon. All of it." She ran a hand up his chest and turned his face toward herself, lightly touching his lips with hers. Before she could deepen the kiss or he raise his hand to her head Dawn spoke up.

"You can't do that."

Joyce and Simon blinked at her. Dawn had been quite placid about their physical contact, unlike Buffy who seemed to be verging on the hysterical if they went beyond holding hands. And gritted her teeth even at that.

"Why not?" Simon asked pointedly and Joyce's look did the same.

"Alice said I was not to let you muss mom until after the ballet." She gave a triumphant smirk and looked out of the window again.

Joyce started laughing, Simon joining in a few seconds later.

The car pulled up before the Dorothy Buffum Chandler Pavilion and Denton opened the door, Simon exiting first and holding out his hand for Joyce and then Dawn. A couple of visitors stood gawping as the great car drove off. A man in a black tie tuxedo exited the doors as it did and bowed slightly.

"Dr Meier? Ms Summers? Miss Summers? I'm Adrian Leavitt, your usher for this evening."

"Good evening. I assume there is an aperitif before the Ballet begins?"

"Indeed Dr Meier. This way please." The usher led them into the great glass foyer of the Pavilion and towards the area reserved for the Founder's. There was a clear path through the crush of people and admiring glances were cast at them. Simon cloaked his hat and cloak and Joyce hers as well, but he kept his cane. Joyce leaned into him and asked. "Why do you always carry that cane?"

He gave her a smile. "Self defense, I'll show you later." Joyce blinked in surprise, but nodded.

Joyce sighed as he looked around the great foyer. "I named Buffy after her, you know."

"Beg pardon?"

"Buffy Chandler. I named Buffy after her. A strong woman, a rolemodel."

"Ah. I thought it was a nickname for Elizabeth?" He ventured it carefully.

"No, just Buffy Ann. I must admit that Elizabeth might have been better, but Hank hated the name. He wanted to call her Josephine, after his mother."

"I see. I somehow cannot imagine Buffy as a Josephine."

"Neither can I." Joyce smiled.

The Founder's Foyer was filled with famous and not so famous faces and several people looked thoughtfully at them as they passed. Simon nodded at Leavitt, who left to take up his position by the door once more. Simon looked round, and then led Joyce and Dawn to a quiet corner. An old lady was sitting on a settee, alone, looking at the milling crowd with satisfaction, an ivory handled cane in her hands. She had a strong, broad face with heavy eyebrows over deep grey eyes. Her short curly hair was thinning and she was far too thin, with skin hanging off her, showing that she had once been far fuller bodied. Her dark blue-grey dress was of simple cut, if of fine material, she wore flat comfortable looking shoes and the other guests seemed content to leave her alone. She looked up as she saw the three approaching, her eyebrows rising. "Well now…this is a surprise. Come to visit the uncultured masses in the boondocks West?"

Simon bowed, far deeper than Joyce had ever seen him do, lifting one of the strong gnarled hands and kissing it lightly. "Now, now. We had agreed to leave my father's unfortunate phrase in peace."

The old lady snorted. "You agreed, I did nothing of the sort. I've had far too much fun with it over the years."

Her eyes raked Joyce and Dawn. "Is that a De Givenchy? I don't know who designed your dress young lady, but it is very becoming." She said the last words to Dawn.

Simon smiled. "Your eye is as good as ever. May I introduce you to Ms Joyce Summers and her daughter Miss Dawn Summers? Joyce, Dawn, this is Mrs. Dorothy Chandler."

The lady leaned forward, beckoning the woman and the girl. "Don't just stand there dears. Come closer. I'm not as spry as I used to be and don't intend to rise until I have to."

Simon clasped Joyce's gloved hand in his and settled her on the settee next to Mrs. Chandler. Joyce looked at her, eyes very wide and visibly swallowed. The older woman gave her a shrewd look. "You just passed an assortment of movie stars, magnates and millionaires and seemed singularly unimpressed. Yet you sit by me and you flutter like a frightened bird. Call me Buffy. Any woman that Simon introduces to me can call me Buffy, especially if she brings such a charming daughter with her."

Dawn looked at her with a surprised look. "Buffy? My sister 's called Buffy."

Buffy Chandler smiled. "Well that's nice. I've always liked the name. You can call me Buffy too, or Mrs. Chandler, whatever you prefer." She leaned forward and stage whispered. "_I_ prefer you call me Buffy."

Dawn giggled.

"I named my daughter after you!" Joyce blurted it out before she realized it.

There was an 'Ah' of comprehension from Mrs. Chandler. "Well that explains the frightened bird fluttering. Don't worry dear; it's not a trademarked name. I won't sue you." She winked at Joyce who gave a tentative and still wide eyed smile.

The older Buffy turned around and looked at Simon who was looking at Joyce with a bemused expression. "Simon, stop looking at the lady like a sheep and get us some drinks."

Simon nodded. "Dawn, juice? Mineral water for the two of you?" Joyce and Buffy nodded, Dawn as well. Simon nodded and walked off.

Buffy Chandler had decided to let Joyce regain her composure and to question the rather interesting young lady on her other side. "May I assume this is your first ballet?"

Dawn nodded happily. "It is. Have you been to many?"

"Quite a few, but this is the first big production in Los Angeles."

"I've only been here once, and that was with school, just to look around." She looked around the high foyer with obvious satisfaction.

"I see. Your mother and Simon are friends? "Buffy could almost feel the heat of the blush coming from the woman beside her. The girl carefully looked around her and at her mother and smiled a touch wickedly.

"A bit more than friends. They're dating. They kiss a lot, but they can't tonight because I am their chaperone and I promised Alice, that's the maid at the hotel, not to let Simon muss her until after the ballet."

Buffy looked thoughtfully at the blushing woman beside her, red from the roots of her hair to the top of her dress. "I thought it might be something like that."

It was on this sentence that Simon returned, carrying a tray with four glasses. "Something like what?"

Buffy gave him a dry look. "Love." Simon flushed, looked down and proffered the tray to the three, who accepted the beverages. A waiter hovered nearby and reclaimed his tray as soon as Simon removed his own glass and let the tray dangle by his leg. Buffy gave him an amused look.

"Still disconcerting the waiting staff I see?"

He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "It gives me something to do." Simon settled beside Joyce and took her hand, squeezing it gently. Joyce accepted the touch gratefully. Buffy glanced at them with a smile. Something about the woman's profile, her face, the startled fawn look she now had reminded her of something.

"You seem somehow familiar my dear. I don't know how, or from what." She pondered. "Did you have anything to do with art? I seem to recall you in front of a painting..."

Joyce nodded shyly. "I was senior appraiser at Christie's."

Buffy laughed. "Now I remember! I was selling some of my art and jewelry and Charlie Biggins desperately tried to introduce me to the remarkably astute young expert who had assessed it."

Joyce nodded, composing herself. "I'm amazed you remember it. I never did get to meet you."

"Well it's not that often people duck into broom closets to avoid being introduced to me." She stated it dryly and Simon snorted, Dawn looked at her mother in astonishment and Joyce buried her face in the safety of the crook of Simon's shoulder and neck.

"You saw that?" It was a meek little voice that came from the tuxedo clad hiding place.

"Yes my dear. You looked so startled when you saw me the first time and then Charlie led me to you and you bolted. I told him you'd gone to the ladies room and I'd meet you later. I did wonder why you didn't actually go into the ladies room. That supply closet must have been a lot more uncomfortable…"

"I panicked. I've wanted to meet you since I was eight. And then you were there." It made no sense to Joyce, but the old lady seemed to understand.

"Don't worry dear; I remember the first time when I was supposed to meet Eleanor Roosevelt. I ducked into a shrubbery in the Rose garden."

Joyce smiled. Apparently Buffy Chandler understood better than she thought. "Thank you."

Buffy laughed. "Well I'm at least glad you were not a young man running from me. That would have been wounding to my ego."

"I am certain that no young man has ever run from your presence my dear lady." Simon said gallantly.

"I would not say that Simon, I would not say that. But none ever got away!" She winked. The bell sounded and the Founder's Foyer started to empty as the audience seated itself in preparation for the ballet to start. Buffy looked Joyce over, saw no problems with her make up, winked at Dawn and held her arm out for Simon to help her up. The Operatic director, Peter Hemmings approached to take the old lady's arm, guiding her to the seat of honour. To Joyce's amusement Simon's seats were right next to Buffy's, at the very front center. Dawn looked ecstatic. Buffy gestured for Dawn to sit next to her, then Joyce, then Simon. Dawn, after a quick look at her mother, did so.

"Can't remember anything about the seats, eh Simon?" Joyce leaned into her date.

"I swear I thought the arrangement then was just for the first evening." He whispered defensively.

"Of course dear." Buffy leaned down to Dawn and whispered something which caused the girl to giggle. A few of the guests looked disturbed until they realized just who was talking to the child and one portly woman who seemed to be about to make a remark received a pointed glare from Buffy and closed her mouth quickly.

The ballet started once the audience was settled. Dawn sat holding Joyce's hand; Simon occasionally stroked the other, sending shivers down her spine. Joyce thought her daughter barely breathed until the intermission.

Simon hastened to help Buffy rise and Hemmings once more led the old lady to the Foyer, though Dawn walked at her other side and they discussed the dance technique and movements used and how the Ivanov-Petipa choreography held up in a modern theatre. Hemmings threw an amused glance at Joyce, who shrugged deprecatingly.

They settled in the same place, but this time a waiter was there with the mineral water and the juice. Joyce grinned. "They learn quickly."

Simon gravely accepted the water. Dawn and Buffy were still talking technique and Simon, Joyce and Hemmings were discussing opera costuming as a dapper, lithe man approached them. "Dr Meier?"

His voice had a slight accent.

"Mr. Baryshnikov?" Simon lifted an eyebrow. "So formal?"

The dancer shrugged; amusement in his face. "You are at a public function, which is not part of your social obligations, with a beautiful lady, in a city in the United States that is not New York. This is extraordinary enough that I thought you might be a double."

Joyce laughed. "He makes you sound like a shut in Simon."

"Not quite a shut-in, dear. More like the stag at bay."

She rolled her eyes and slid her hand into the crook of his arm, squeezing gently. "You poor thing. Persecuted by the weaker sex until you have to hide all alone in a huge mansion. If you start whispering 'Rosebud' I'll start to worry."

Everybody laughed. Simon nodded at the Russian. "This is Ms Joyce Summers, her daughter Dawn. I assume you've met director Hemmings and Mrs. Chandler? This is Mikhail Baryshnikov, a dancer of some note."

"I've had the pleasure of meeting both of them." He bowed low, elegant, a dancers' bow. "It is good to meet you both again. Now I heard an interesting conversation regarding dance here?" He gestured his glass of water at Dawn and Buffy. Dawn, wide eyed and awed scooted to the side as Buffy gestured imperiously for him to sit between them.

The talk resumed until the intermission was over. They filed back in, this time with Dawn being guided by Baryshnikov. Simon and Joyce could hear the conversation.

"Oh, I know now I'll never be a real ballerina, I don't have the talent. You have to be realistic about such things." Joyce felt her heart break at her daughter's mature yet sadly spoken appraisal of her skills.

"I myself was not truly appreciated as a dancer for a long time." Baryshnikov pointed out gently.

"That was not your talent that was because they thought you were too short. Errr.. That came out wrong."

The dancer laughed. "Quite true though. But you enjoy the dance, the art of it?"

"Oh, I love it. It is a magnificently liberating feeling. But I've never danced with a partner really; the boys in the class are not strong enough for most of the really cool moves. So I've never been partnered with a man."

"Neither have I." The tease was obvious in his voice.

Dawn grinned up at him. "All you need is a really big partner. Maybe Michael Jordan?"

Mikhail started laughing, startled at the comeback. He looked over his shoulder at Joyce. "You've a remarkable young lady here."

Joyce nodded. "I think that every day. Even in the mornings when her conversations are limited to glares and grunts."

Dawn groaned in embarrassment. "Mom!"

The Russian laughed again. "Do not worry Dawn. I'm not too good of a morning myself."

They arrived at their seats and watched the second part of the ballet.

This time Joyce very firmly took Simon's hand in hers, hoping that she would manage better without the stroking. Dawn looked in awe at the abilities of the ballerinas. She had come to the conclusion that she would never achieve that level of skill in the first part. It had been a shattering realization. But at least she would have this.

The ballet ended and the audience rose en masse to give a standing ovation. Dawn was grinning from ear to ear. The curtain went down for the final time and suddenly she felt her hand being taken. Mikhail was standing there. "Do you want to go backstage and meet the dancers?"

Dawn's face lit up in incredulous joy. "Can I? That would be wonderful!" She looked at Joyce and Simon, who laughed.

"Have fun dear. We may be along in a bit."

Dawn looked at Buffy. "Do you want to come along?"

The old lady shook her head. "I'd like to dear, but I'm rather tired. So I'll say goodbye if you don't mind. I do hope to see you again. Mikhail, do please confer my regards to Natalia for all her wonderful work, and to Miss Vishneva as well." She rose with some difficulty, helped to her feet by Simon, who looked a touch worried.

"Will you be alright?"

"Yes Simon. But you know as well as I do that my time is running out. But I did want to see this. And it was certainly worth it." She looked in satisfaction around the great auditorium, then patted Joyce's arm. "And I hope to see you again too dear. Preferably fairly soon, while I still have my wits about me. And do bring your Buffy. I'd like to meet her."

Joyce nodded. "I'd like that too." She stood staring after the old lady as Peter Hemmings led her away and sighed. "Cancer?"

"Liver. They give her a few more months."

"I'll talk to Buffy. I really want her to meet the woman she's named after."

"I think they'd both enjoy it. Shall we go after Dawn?"

Joyce nodded. "Yes. It's time we get her to bed before she collapses."

They moved backstage slowly through the crowds and were let through without difficulty. Dawn was talking to Diana Vishneva, the principal ballerina with Mikhail as interpreter. Her face was flushed and feverish and it was obvious that the late hour was catching up with her. Diana gave Mikhail a pointed look and the man smiled, taking Dawn's hand and leading her to the stage entrance. Dawn looked surprised but went along meekly. Diana followed, as well as a slender, stately middle aged woman with an amused expression. Simon identified her to Joyce as Natalia Makarova, the Kirov dance mistress. Several of the dancers tagged along, and a few guests. Simon and Joyce did the same. Once on stage Mikhail took hold of Dawn's waist, rising on the balls of his toes and lifted her. Diana guided Dawn into position and Mikhail took her through a number of movements. The dance mistress made the occasional comment. After fifteen minutes Dawn managed a fairly proficient Poisson, from which they moved on into glissades and two jetés, though her dress got in the way of the more vigorous movements.

The small audience applauded and Dawn glowed. Natalia smiled kindly at her, speaking a few words, Dawn nodded, but said something, and Natalia's smile broadened. She reached out and touched Dawn's cheek gently, approvingly, speaking again.

Mikhail gave the girl's shoulder a squeeze and led her over to Joyce and Simon. "I think it is time for this young lady to get some sleep."

Dawn yawned behind her hand and did not even protest. Joyce put an arm around her daughter's shoulders and gave the dancer a grateful look.

"Thank you."

"Thank Diana. She made me do it as soon as she heard Dawn had never partnered." He smiled and winked.

Dawn yawned widely, her hand barely covering her mouth. "'Scuse me." She blinked owlishly. "I should say goodbye to people." Simon nodded.

"I'll take you, come on." He led her to the dancers and Dawn started saying her goodbyes.

"So what was that at the end?"

"Madame Makarova complimented her on her skill." The Russian shrugged. "Dawn told Natalia that she was not good enough, and though she would enjoy dancing still she would not try for ballerina. Natalia then told her it was wise to know one's limitations and that she might consider ballroom dancing as well."

Joyce sighed softly gazing at her youngest child as she was saying goodbye to the dancers. "I wish she could hold on to that dream. But she's always been level headed. So very rational."

"Much like her mother?"

Joyce nodded. "Much like me." She gave him a broad smile. "I thought that seeing a ballet would make her night, but dancing with you…"

"It was a great pleasure, she is a delightful girl." He glanced at the drooping Dawn, smiling. "Albeit a very tired one."

"We'll take her home."

"You may not have realized, but the Centre's photographers will certainly have footage and photographs of my dance with Dawn…"

Joyce smiled. "I was too busy watching her enjoy herself. Could you…?"

He nodded. "It will be my pleasure. I'm certain they have pictures of the three of you as well."

"That would be lovely."

Simon returned with Dawn and slipped a small pager from his pocket, pressing the button. He said good night to Mikhail and Dawn tightly hugged the dancer, much to the amusement of the troupe. Simon led them to the exit, picking up the cloaks and hat. Dawn was stumbling and yawning and with a glance for permission at Joyce Simon lifted her up in his arms, cradling her elegantly coifed head to his shoulder and carried her outside to the waiting car. She fell asleep as soon as her head touched his shoulder.

Denton opened the door and Joyce got in first, Simon gently placing Dawn into the car and her mother's arms and got in himself. Denton closed the door behind them and drove them to the hotel. Dawn did not wake and Simon carried her into the lobby and the elevator, letting Joyce open the doors to the suite. Joyce undid the pearl necklace and held it while Simon put Dawn on her bed. Alice arrived and helped Joyce undress the girl and slip her into her favourite Winnie the Pooh shirt, the one with Tigger on it. Dawn did not wake throughout.

"Did she have a good night?" Alice asked with an amused smile.

"Perfect." Joyce kissed Dawn's forehead and they withdrew.

Simon was reading a book on the couch, dressed in an elegant padded silk blue night gown, his shirt, trousers and a pair of disreputable old slippers. Joyce smiled at the incongruity and entered her own bedroom where Alice helped her out of her clothes, storing them carefully, and helped her brush out her hair. She took the refilled safety deposit box downstairs after bidding the guests good night. Joyce sat down next to Simon, dressed in her new red robe and slippers and a satin nightgown out of her own wardrobe.

"Well that was a certainly an interesting night."

"Did you enjoy it?"

She leaned against him, lifting her feet onto the couch, tucking them under herself. "Immensely." She closed her eyes and Simon caressed her face and hair. "You might want to call your parents and your sisters tomorrow."

"Why?" She murmured sleepily.

"There were considerable numbers of paparazzi present. I think you might want them to find out from you rather than them."

"Hmmm."

"Joyce?"

"Hmmm?"

"You should go to bed."

"Hmmm."

"Shall I carry you?"

"Hmmm hmmm." She nodded into his shoulder and snuggled even closer. Simon smiled, lifting her and carrying her into the master bedroom, placing her on the bed and covering her gently with the duvet. She was asleep minutes later.


	7. Chapter 7

The oddness of twins and parental disapproval

Joyce rose at eight thirty, brushed her teeth and ran a brush through her hair, removing her contacts and putting them back in after rinsing them, wincing a little at the rawness of her eyes. She walked into the lounge in her dressing gown a few minutes later. A _Washington Post_ and an issue of the _LA Times_ were on the table and Simon was drinking coffee on the couch while reading his book. The _Post_ had been read, even if neatly refolded. Joyce sat down on his lap and kissed him. "I forgot to thank you properly last night."

Simon looked a bit nervous. "You may not have much to thank me for."

She nuzzled his neck. "What do you mean? It was wonderful."

"You might want to take a look at the Arts and entertainment pages of the Times." He looked genuinely upset.

Joyce sighed and rose. "You're no fun this morning." She pouted at him and he smiled, if a trifle uncertainly.

Joyce sat at the table and Simon poured her a cup of still hot coffee. "What do you want for breakfast? I waited for you. I checked on Dawn, she's still sleeping."

Joyce smiled indulgently. "Let her sleep. She's always more cheery when she wakes up on her own. Uhm, what are you having?"

"Just more coffee and a croissant until Dawn wakes."

"That will be fine, but I'd like some juice too." Simon nodded, rising and picking up the phone to place the order.

Joyce picked up the Times and searched for the indicated sections. The front page of the arts section showed Diana Vishneva performing a grand jeté and a raving review beneath it. She smiled and turned to the next page. The headline and the picture made her blink.

_Impromptu dance with Baryshnikov _

_Famed dancer Mikhail Baryshnikov danced with a young lady from the audience after yesterday's performance of Swan Lake. Under the guidance of Prima Ballerina Diana Vishneva and Kirov Dance Mistress Natalia Makarova the young lady performed very credibly. _

_Mr. Baryshnikov and the members of the Kirov ballet refused to divulge the name of the young danseuse, Baryshnikov stating only she was very charming and he hoped to dance with her again. _

The picture showed Dawn, a delighted smile on her face, held high above Mikhail's head, legs straight, back curved and arms wide. The dancer was obviously trying to hide his own smile.

"Dear me." She blinked at Simon rapidly, eyes growing wide. "Lolly reads this. Dad reads this! "

"Try the entertainment section."

Joyce hurriedly turned to it. Simon looked nervous.

_Last ap__pearance by the grand old lady?_

_Mrs. Dorothy Buffum Chandler spent most of last night's performance of Swan Lake in the company of the reclusive New York philanthropist Simon Meier._

_Mrs. Chandler has been confirmed to be suffering from cancer; the disease is rumored to be beyond treatment. Mrs. Chandler, after whom the Dorothy Chandler pavilion is named, stated she was delighted that the first ballet enacted in the Pavilion was performed by the Kirov ballet and that she was glad to have seen it performed in such delightful company._

A picture below, taken in the intermission showed Mikhail seated between Buffy and Dawn as Dawn was gesturing with her hands and the old lady and the dancer laughing. The subscript read: _A lively discussion about dancing techniques._

The picture next to it showed her and Simon, walking into the foyer, flanked by the usher and Dawn. The subscript to that read _A romance in high life?_

The accompanying text caused her to wince: _Dr Meier,(52) who rarely appears in public was surprisingly accompanied by a lady and her daughter. The lady has been tentatively identified as Ms. Joyce Summers, a 38 year old divorcee with two daughters. One of Ms Summers daughters accompanied the couple. Ms Summers was wearing a Hubert de Givenchy dress and a set of Meier family jewelry known as the Stella Saphires, named for Dr Meier's grandmother Stella and designed by Pierre Cartier. _

"I'm sorry Joyce…"

"Oh stop the guilt trip Simon. It's nothing I can't deal with…I hope…" Joyce groaned. "Lolly is going to laugh her head off. Shy nerdy little Joyly hitting the gossip pages… Is there phone I can use?"

Simon nodded. "By the bed and one in here. What ever you prefer."

She stood and went to the phone by the couch. "I may need the moral support." She decided to call Lolly first. Lolly was an early riser and subscribed to the LA Times, her father drove to the post office to get his. She dialed the number from memory and it rang twice before being picked up.

"Charlotte Penkowski." Her twin sounded distracted, Joyce noted.

"Lolly? This is Joyly."

"Joyly! Well. What an amazing coincidence. Seen the paper yet?" Joyce could hear the amusement, curiosity and sheer evil pleasure of tormenting her older sister in Lolly's voice.

Joyce took a deep breath. "Yes, Simon was kind enough to show me the relevant pages this morning."

"So it is you and it is true. And when were you going to tell me?" There was an odd mix of satisfaction, curiosity and hurt in her voice.

"I only met him a few weeks ago. We've only been dating for about a week."

"I see. I was planning to come down this weekend for a few hours of gossip anyway…" Lolly sounded hopeful.

"Yes Lolly, we'll be home this afternoon." She rolled her eyes at Simon who grinned, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Did Dawn really dance with Mikhail Baryshnikov?" Lolly sounded awed in spite of herself.

Simon nipped Joyce's neck and Joyce squeaked. "Yes! Yes she d-did." Simon nibbled her earlobe and Joyce tried to dislodge him with her free hand. He chuckled deeply.

"What was that Joyly?"

"N-nothing." Joyce let out another yip as Simon's hands moved to her front and cradled on her stomach and his teeth grazed the back of her neck.

"Sure sounded like something on this end." Lolly chuckled. "Maybe I should let you two get on with it?"

"No, I just need to hit someone with the newspaper. Give me a second while I roll it up." She glared at Simon who raised his hands in surrender and withdrew.

"Well I've got to get Celia out of bed. She'll want to see Buffy and come along I'm sure."

"Harry coming too?"

"Oh yes. I'm fairly certain he'll want to meet your new young man."

"Good, it's been a while since we've seen him."

Lolly laughed. "See you around two in the afternoon? "

"Yeah, ok. You''ll be staying for dinner, of course. Love you Lolly."

"Love you too Joyly."

Joyce hung up. She glared at Simon who gave her an angelic smile of innocence. "Simon…that was incredibly juvenile."

"Yes."

"You should be ashamed of yourself! What will Lolly think?"

"That I'm very much in love with you and can't keep my hands off you?"

Joyce had to laugh. "Well, yes. But you are not going to do that while I call my parents, ok? Mom would have a heart attack."

Simon smiled. "I make no promises."

"Simon…"

"We could make a deal…" He said it with an evil grin.

There was a knock and their order was delivered by a maid and Joyce tried to look relaxed as it was placed on the table. She could feel Simon's eyes on her and when the maid had left she spoke. "What sort of deal?"

He sat on the couch, beside the phone, patting his lap. She warily come over and sat down, primly on his lap. "What deal?"

He put his hands around her waist and drew her close, smelling her hair. "I do nothing beyond this. And you call."

She blinked. "That's it?"

"You were expecting more?"

Joyce blushed. "Well I thought you might make a run for second base there for a second."

"I don't steal bases. I try to earn them." He tightened his hold and Joyce leaned against his shoulder.

"Very well, deal." She reached for the phone, again dialing the number from memory.

"Family of early risers?"

"Mom will have been in the garden for two hours at least. We hardly ever bought vegetables when I was younger. Dad should just be back home from buying the paper. He reads the politics section first."

The phone was answered by a male voice. "Ellis."

"Dad? It's Joyce?"

"Joyce? Is there trouble?" He sounded worried. He'd been very upset about the problems with Buffy and the collapse of her marriage, just like he'd been hurt by the failure of Arlene's two marriages.

"No dad, no trouble. Is mom there?"

"We were just about to have breakfast. Well I was. She calls it lunch." Her father rose after her mother since he'd given up working regularly at his law practice.

"Can you go to the arts section of the paper? Second page." She heard a rustle as her father did so.

"Did you get a piece in there for the gallery?" He sounded amused. She heard him gasp and her mother's voice saying; "Is that Dawnie?"

"Joyce, is that Dawn dancing with Mikhail Baryshnikov?" Her father sounded incredulous.

"Yes. Ummm. Can you go to the entertainment section? Second page as well…"

There was a scuffle for the receiver. She heard her father protest and firmly being told to sit down and this was a thing between mother and daughter.

"You have some explaining to do young lady!" Her mother's voice hovered between gratified and indignant.

"Good morning to you too, mom." Simon snickered.

"Don't you good morning me, young lady! When did this start!"

"Last week mom. And I'm only calling now because it's in the paper."

"I see. When do we get to meet him?"

"Well Lolly, Harry and Celia are coming by this afternoon. Can we wait a bit until we are more certain?"

"Joyce, unless your financial situation has considerably changed you cannot afford a de Givenchy dress. Not to mention the jewelry."

"They're a loan mom."

"No they're not. At least not the dress. I'm hardly going to wear it." The voice was a low rumble in her ear.

"Simon! Shut up!" Joyce hissed, hoping her mother had not heard.

"Joyce…Is he there?"

"Yes mom. We're in a very nice suite in a hotel in LA. Separate bedrooms." The last was added before her mother could comment.

She heard the extension in the living room being picked up. "Joyce, what are his intentions?" her father's voice.

"Good grief, can you two possibly get more Victorian?" Joyce let her exasperation be heard. "I'm a grown woman! He's a grown man! We've been dating for a week. He took me and Dawn to see a ballet. He's very nice. He's a complete gentleman. And I'll introduce you when I feel good and ready."

There was a momentary silence. "Very well dear." Her mother sounded subdued. "Your father and I love you very much, and we worry. Do let us know…"

"I will mom. Love you too." She heard the connection break and hung up. "Well that could have gone better." She glared at Simon. "You could have kept silent. Jerk." He seemed utterly unrepentant, nuzzling her neck. There was a creak and the door of Dawn's bedroom opened. Dawn sighed.

"Doesn't that ever get old?" She gave her mother a pointed look. Joyce put her hands over Simon's larger ones.

"Not really, no. Breakfast? We need to leave fairly soon, Aunt Lolly is coming over to Sunnydale with Celia and uncle Harry."

"Really? Cool." Joyce rose and went to help Dawn brush the curls out of her hair while Simon called for breakfast. Dawn was beside herself when she saw the pictures of her in the newspaper and even more excited when she heard that better quality pictures would be forthcoming. Alice arrived to help pack the dress, braiding Dawn's hair in a twist that Joyce made a mental note to try and duplicate sometime. They left, Simon tipping the staff that had attended them and quickly got on the highway to Sunnydale.

Dawn chattered incessantly on the way, utterly delighted she could show her ballet friends the pictures of herself dancing with Baryshnikov, wondering what they would say. Joyce smiled a lot at Simon. Simon smiled a lot at Joyce.

They arrived in Sunnydale and Simon swung past the grocery stores to pick up extra food and supplies for the visitors and they arrived at Revello Drive before twelve. Buffy and Willow were sitting in the porch, talking. When the car drew up on the drive way Buffy rose, arms crossed.

"Well I hope you have been behaving yourself? Done nothing I wouldn't do?" She smirked.

Dawn ran out of the car and hugged her. "Buff! I danced with Mikhail Baryshnikov! And I talked to Buffy Chandler, you know, the lady you're named after! And the ballet was wonderful and my picture is in the paper! Three times!"

Buffy blinked; her arms automatically closing around her sister. "Really?"

"Uhuh! I have the papers and everything! There are more pictures, we'll get them and Simon loaned me a necklace and a there was a maid to do my hair and it was the most awesome night ever!"

Buffy looked at her mother who nodded, holding the folded newspaper and looking at her daughters fondly. "Why don't we go inside and talk. A little help with the boxes?"

Willow and Buffy eagerly helped carry the boxes and luggage inside, dragging it upstairs and dropping it there. Dawn spread out the papers and Buffy and Willow looked in amazement at the pictures.

"Holy shit." Buffy muttered it but her mother heard it.

"Buffy, language." She rubbed her eldest's back. "Aunt Lolly, Celia and Uncle Harry are coming over this afternoon. I called your grandparents. And now I have to call Arlene, in case anyone she knows reads the LA times." She rolled her eyes.

Simon grinned at her. "Need moral support?"

"No. I can call Arlene all by myself." Her glare told her daughters not to ask and she went upstairs to place the call.

Simon grinned at the three girls. "We should get the groceries out of the car and put them away."

They quickly did so, Dawn still chattering. Janice appeared half an hour later, much to the relief of Buffy and Willow whose knowledge of ballet was limited to 'girls in tutus jump gorgeous guys in tight clothing.' The younger girls withdrew upstairs where the frequent exclamations of 'No way' and 'Way!' showed that a pre teen conversation was taking place.

Joyce came down, humming to herself. Simon gave her a fond look. "Long conversation?"

"No, I was putting my dress out to best effect for Lolly. And how are things here?"

Buffy theatrically put her head on the table. "Thank god for Janice, I could not take another Jeté, glissade or whatcha macallums."

"I can imagine." She looked fondly at Buffy, remembering long, mostly one sided conversations about skating.

Simon went to the kitchen to make tea and coffee and get juice for Willow. The teens sat looking at the picture of Joyce and Simon. "You looked beautiful mom. Totally gorgeous." Buffy sighed. "I'll never look so beautiful."

"Nonsense. You're both very pretty girls and in the right dress you'll knock the socks of them even more. There is something to be said for dressing up however." She looked at her picture with some satisfaction. She looked thoughtfully at Willow. "Green for you." Then at Buffy. "and I think a nice deep red for you."

Buffy blinked. "What?"

"Dresses dear. Just thinking of the prom."

"Isn't that a touch early?" Buffy looked amused.

"Never hurts to plan dear."

After coffee and tea Simon and Joyce withdrew to the kitchen to bake, ultimately assisted by Willow and Buffy after the girls finished their homework, or at least as much as they wanted to do then. The cookies were slid into the oven just as there was a noise outside, a car horn being sounded and Buffy bounced to the window, then to the door, throwing it open. "CELE!"

A girl in jeans and a tight sweater, long dark blonde hair in a single braid and with large dark blue eyes jumped up the steps, hugging Buffy. "Buff! Love the look. Who's that?"

She glanced at Willow who started to flush. "That's Willow, my best friend, she's staying over."

The girl slipped out of Buffy's arms, holding a hand out to Willow. "Celia Penkowski. I'm Buff's cousin Almost any friend of Buffy is a friend of mine."

Buffy rolled her eyes at the familiar phrase. Willow blinked, uncertain at the ambiguity of the phrase. "Umm. H-hello. I'm Willow, Willow Rosenberg. I go to school with Buffy."

"Don't mind Cele. She's been saying that since I introduced her to Annie Ustrad when we were six and Annie kicked her butt at miniature golf."

Willow blinked. "O-oh. Well I'm really very bad at miniature golf and I don't do very well at most sports anyway, so umm, no butt kicking in any way from me. We could do some logic puzzles or a spelling bee, or a maths quiz and I might,, you know, gently kick, but not miniature golf."

Celia grinned at Willow. "No need to get nervous Willow. It's just family in joke. I am so totally over getting my butt kicked at miniature golf you would not believe it."

"O-oh. Ok."

Celia stepped up to Joyce and hugged her. "Hello Aunt Joyce. Where's the Beast that will not waken?"

A voice from behind her spoke sharply, if with affection. "Celia! You will not talk about Dawn that way!"

"But mom…" Celia looked put upon.

"I don't care if you say making up silly nicknames for Dawn is tradition. Now apologize to your aunt and there will be no name calling."

"Yes mom. Sorry Aunt Joyce."

Joyce smiled. "It's quite alright dear. Good to see you again." She smirked at Lolly, who looked confused at her sister's placid reaction to the name calling perpetrated against her youngest.

Charlotte was being hugged by Buffy and Harry by Joyce when Dawn thundered downstairs, closely followed by Janice. Celia caught her in a hug. "Hello Dawn. How've ya been?"

Dawn looked at her wide eyed. "What did I do?"

"Sorry?" Celia blinked.

"You never call me Dawn, unless I do something wrong. So what did I do? Was it bad? I'm sorry?"

Joyce started laughing, looking at Lolly's expression of disbelief.

Celia gave her mother and aunt and exasperated look. "Nothing to worry about Eater of larvae, just that mom thought calling you stuff was wrong."

Dawn blinked. "Oh. But its tradition." She said it so matter-of-factly that even Lolly started laughing. She raised her hands in defeat. "I give up."

Lolly looked round. "So where is this man of yours Joyly?"

"Making tea and coffee."

Celia ran into the house and the kitchen, followed closely by Buffy and Dawn. The Summers' girls were rather surprised to see Celia tightly hugging an amused looking Simon.

"I knew it was you from the pictures. Hello Dr. Simon."

"Hello Celia. I'm glad to see you again. And looking so well."

Buffy blinked. "Dr Simon… YOU are Dr. Simon. Cele's Dr. Simon… Why didn't you tell us?" She looked outraged and confused.

"Because I did not make the connection myself. And I haven't met her in almost eight years."

Celia finally let go. "I couldn't do that last time; I wasn't allowed to get up."

Simon smiled. "I know, I was the one who decided that. Shall we go to meet your parents?"

Buffy and Celia exchanged looks, and then joined arms. "Lets shall!" Both girls giggled. Dawn rolled her eyes.

Simon shook hands with Harry, a tall, thin man with a balding head of graying black hair, glasses and a kind expression.

"Dr Mayer. A great pleasure meeting you again."

"Mr. Penkowski. It is very good to meet you this time under happier circumstances."

"Though I think our farewells will not match the last time we parted." Harry winked. Simon winked back.

Lolly rolled her eyes and threw her arms around Simon. "Men! It is good to see you. Especially in these unexpected circumstances. Now if you'll excuse us, I'll just grab Joyly, drag her upstairs, take a really good look at that dress and gossip."

Dawn looked at Janice who had edged away from the group. "Don't go Janice; I don't think Celia wants to hear about the ballet, much." She grinned at Buffy. "And I know I lost Buffy and Willow waaaay before the first act ended."

Buffy hugged her sister. "I should know better than to try and fool you about ballet. I should fool you about ant larvae being candy. Biology never was your strong suit."

Danw glared, wrinkling her mouth and nose in disgust at her sister. "I was five. It was icky. You were mean." Simon looked interested and Harry put a hand on his arm.

"Why don't we sit out here and I'll tell you all about it. I'm sure the girls have lots to talk about." Lolly stuck her tongue out at him and dragged Joyce off, grabbing two cups of coffee from the kitchen and drove her sister up the stairs before her, the children going upstairs as well. The last thing Buffy heard was: "Now let me tell you a little about Buffy and Celia's misspent youth…" She winced despite herself.

Buffy let her cousin into her room, closely followed by Willow. Celia took in the camp bed; the extra clothes hanging in the closet, styles her cousin would never ever wear, and looked her question.

Willow's lip trembled unhappily and Buffy moved over to her, giving her a hug and sitting her on the bed.

"It's alright Wills, Cele can keep a secret." She looked over at Celia. "Wills' parents are gone. A lot. Mom lets her stay here, otherwise she would be home alone." The 'far too often' was unspoken but readily understood. Celia nodded.

"That's cool. Different though."

"Mom alone is different than Mom with dad. Mom with Simon…" She rolled her eyes in disgust. "Is like trying to keep two bunnies apart." Willow giggled and Celia fell on the bed, laughing.

"Well at least he is a really good guy."

Willow looked between the cousins shyly. "How do you know him?"

Celia shrugged. "I was eight, in the hospital to have my tonsils out and I became really ill, couple of other kids and me almost died. And it really hurt, I couldn't breathe. And then the doctor in charge of my case called this doctor who was in the neighborhood to give a lecture and this guy came in, all dressed in tweed with this white coat and basically took one look at me and gave me an inhaler and said it was a rare type of tuberculosis. I had to use the inhaler for a couple of years, take plenty of exercise, and keep out of the night air." She scowled. "My parents still use that excuse to keep me from going out."

Buffy laughed and then her face took on a calculating expression. "They'd lose that if Simon told them it wasn't needed anymore wouldn't they?"

Celia's face lit up. "Would he do that?"

"If there's no reason to keep you in, sure. Let's ask him later."

Celia nodded. "So…how have you been...otherwise?" She glanced between Willow and Buffy.

"Willow knows and believes. So does Simon." Buffy gave Celia a broad smile.

Celia's eyes widened. "Both? Wow. And have you killed any vamps here?"

Willow gave Buffy a mock severe look. "She knows too?"I thought it was supposed to be a secret? Is there anyone you haven't told?"

Buffy pretended to think. "I think maybe mom and Cordelia don't know." She rolled her eyes. "You and Xander would not have found out if he hadn't been in the library. I mean, what was he doing in the library anyway?"

"Probably looking at books to see if there were any pictures of semi naked ladies." Willow nodded sagely if a bit sadly. Buffy and Celia sniggered. Celia put a hand on the red head's shoulder.

"Willow, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Lolly looked at the dress on the bed and then up her sister, older by thirty six minutes. "Joyce, take out your damn contacts and put on your glasses."

Joyce gave her a near panicked look. "B-but.."

Lolly rolled her eyes. "Good god, you've got it bad. Joyce, this is not Brad Peterson in High school, nor Hank with his ridiculous notions on female beauty, this is a man of the world, a medical doctor for heaven's sake! I'm sure he knows you wear contacts, I'm sure he knows they sometimes irritate. Just put on your glasses."

"O-okay." Joyce removed her contacts, blinking painfully and reached for one of her sets of glasses, the steel rimmed ones she had used at work, that hopefully were more sophisticated than the horn rims that made her look like a librarian or the black ones that made her feel like the nerdy girl she had been in school. Lolly in the mean time looked over her dress and its accoutrements.

"A real De Givenchy." Lolly ran an admiring and careful hand over the fabric.

"Well he can afford it." Joyce said it almost apologetically.

"That's not the point. The point is he wants to see you in it. Which begs the question what else he wants? Is he looking for a courtesan? A roll on the hay? What?"

Joyce hesitated, then she went to her bureau and opened a locked drawer, taking out the two letters that had come with the dress. She handed both of them to her sister. Charlotte read them eyes widening. She gave Joyce a ecstatic look once she lowered Simon's letter.

"Lady love of his life? Ring and necklace? Joyly… "

"He wants me to marry him."

"Phew. Well he makes up his mind fast. The necklace seems more important than the ring…"

"It's a love necklace, handed to the intended of the oldest son. It's been in the family since the 15th century. The rings are only from the sixteenth and nineteenth century." Joyce said it absent mindedly as she looked at her eyes in the mirror, wondering if they were too bloodshot and fretting over what she could do about it.

Lolly gulped. "Oh. That's old."

"Should I go with this one or the tortoiseshell?"

"Joyce! He's not going to dump you merely because of your glasses, stop worrying."

"O-kay."

"You love him."

"I think so."

"You want him."

"I…"

"Don't bother denying it sis. I know you too well."

"It's too soon."

"How many dates have you been on?"

"Well, he arrived last Saturday morning for breakfast, then we went to lunch, there was dinner at the Italian, then we went to the park with Dawn on Sunday, Lunch every day, he's been there for breakfast every morning, he's there in the evenings for dinner, stays to help the kids with homework, we went for coffee and I took him out to buy jeans. He looks really good in jeans." She added the last a bit dreamily.

"And then there's the ballet. He's been here every day for the past week. That's at least seven dates, by my count. A lot of time spent together. He helps the kids with their homework?" Lolly sounded interested.

"Yeah, He's really good about it. Buffy's French is even improving." She smiled.

"So he likes the kids."

"You should have seen him carrying Dawn yesterday, he was so proprietary. Did you know he funds at least one Foster home in each state? And he's a pediatrician."

"I know he's a pediatrician. He's the man who saved Celia. Dr Simon."

Joyce turned around. "So that was what that whole thing outside was about. You knew him? Why didn't he tell me?"

"Joyce…We, Harry, Celia and me, may remember him very well, but he has saved dozens of children throughout the country. He probably barely remembers our names, let alone our faces. Celia still gets a Christmas card each year, he promised her that. How was he to know that a girl called Penkowski. he saved eight years ago was your niece? He met you once if I recall. And he used a different name. Well somewhat."

"I suppose you're right. I didn't recognize him either, and I shook his hand to thank him. Buffy even hugged him back then."

"See? How was he supposed to remember. Now, let's go down."

"The steel rims? Or the tortoiseshell?"

Lolly sighed. "Joyly…"

Joyce meekly went down stairs. Harry and Simon were seated outside on the back swing and discussing childhood pranks. "So Dawn set fire to Celia's Barbies after she read about the Salem Witch trials? And Celia took vengeance by building a ducking stool with Buffy. And ducking Dawn?" Simon sounded both amused and disbelieving.

"They were energetic times." Harry said sagely. Simon laughed. "Lively."

The men looked up and Simon's face took on a strange intent look. He rose, empty cup in hand and gestured with it. "I'm getting a refill. Joyce?"

Harry was about to rise and get himself some but Lolly sat down next to him and kept him back. "Just bring the pot out will you, it's nice out here."

Joyce preceded Simon with some trepidation. She heard him putting down his cup and put down her own.

"I was wondering if you ever wore specs." She winced, old insecurities rising up.

"Sometimes the contacts irritate my eyes. I only use them rarely." She spoke apologetically.

Suddenly she was turned around and he kissed her fiercely, pressing her back against the fridge. After some time they had to come up for air and she gave him a dazed look. "W-what?"

"You look incredibly sexy in specs." His eyes smouldered.

Joyce swallowed. "I do?" *Specs…sexy…wow…kiss me again.*

"Has no one ever told you that? What fools men are."

"T-they are?" He kissed her again, deeply. She felt his hand slipping under her loose shirt, caressing her stomach, the finger tips just brushing the bottoms of her breasts.

There was the noise of a cleared throat from the door. "Are we gonna get that coffee anytime today?"

Lolly was standing in the doorway, looking very amused. Simon reluctantly backed off; Lolly glanced at his hands as they became visible from under her twin's shirt. "Why don't you go outside Simon, Joyce and I can manage the coffee. And we might even get to drink some."

Simon grinned. He gave Lolly a look and then kissed Joyce again, deeply and passionately. Then he nodded at Lolly and walked back out onto the porch.

"He thinks I look sexy in specs." Joyce leaned against the fridge, almost certain she would collapse if she didn't.

"I would never have guessed. At least we know he's not Brad Peterson in disguise." Lolly looked at her shaking sister in with some amusement. "He probably has a librarian fetish as well."

"Lolly!" Joyce blushed, unwilling to admit the same thought had crossed her mind, pushing herself slowly away from the fridge and leaning against the island. "Damn, that man can kiss."

"I'd say he showed both enthusiasm and skill. Shall we get the coffee?" She took the pot from the coffeemaker and carried it out. Joyce followed, slowly, carrying her own cup and Simon's.

Lolly filled the cups and they drank, talking about day to day things, Harry's accountancy firm, Lolly's Interior decorating business, Joyce's gallery. Simon kept silent, listening attentively and asking the occasional question, never volunteering information. When the talk moved to art and political affairs he joined in freely. After an hour or so Buffy, Willow and Celia came down, looking nervous. Celia cleared her throat.

"Ummm…Dr Simon? Can I talk to you in private?"

Simon gave her an amused glance, rising and led her into the dining room, sitting at the table and looking at her expectantly. "Yes Celia?"

Celia sat down, taking a deep breath. "You know those instructions you gave when I was sick?"

Simon blinked. "Which instructions?"

"Keep warm, get plenty of fresh air and exercise, avoid the night air and use the inhaler?"

"What about them?"

"Could you, maybe examine me and you know, tell my parents I can go out at night?"

Simon blinked, again. "Are you still using the inhaler? I seem to remember canceling the medication…"

"No, I stopped using that when I was thirteen." Celia's face suddenly became wrathful. "You mean that…They've been keeping me from going out…"

Simon grinned at her. "Apparently. I must admit that I'm surprised you fell for it for so long."

"Ooohhhh! I am so going to get even!"

"Well not tonight if you please. I'd like a nice quiet family dinner."

"Oh, very well." She sniffed. "Because it's you."

Simon laughed. "Well, if that was all?"

Celia grinned. "Unless you want to play doctor."

Simon gave her a look. "Your records were quite clear, no congestion, damage, normal mammary growth, nothing to indicate the presence of the disease in your system. So it's not really needed."

"Mammary growth? What does that have to do with it?" Celia blushed.

"In some cases that's influenced. It's very rare, but can be an indicator. Usually a difference in size or speed of growth."

Celia nodded. "Ah, ok. Well then…" She squared her shoulders and marched back outside. "MOM! DAD! You've got some splainin' to do!"

Simon followed her out. Celia's parents seemed resigned to their fate. Joyce was telling her sister she was amazed the ruse had lasted as long as it had. Buffy was sunk in laughter against the house that her world wise and savvy cousin had been hoodwinked by her parents so neatly. Willow was grinning at Celia who was spluttering that it was totally not fair and not funny at all.

Simon beckoned Joyce with his eyes. When she came into the kitchen he was cutting vegetables for the evening meal. "Ah. Yes we should start dinner I suppose." She knew she sounded disappointed.

"Yes, we should, the casserole needs some time in the oven." She sighed and walked over to help him. As she rather despondently got out her own cutting board and put it next to his, he put down his knife and caught her, lifting her onto one of the stools easily and kissed her. Joyce was uncertain how long the kiss lasted but she heard some strangled noises behind her and became aware of her eldest daughter and her niece standing in the doorway. Buffy had covered her eyes with one hand and was groaning, Celia was very red in the face, whether from a desire not to laugh or other reasons she did not know.

"Very much like bunnies, yes." Celia managed to say it before running away into the garden, followed by Buffy who was mouthing something like 'gross'. Willow, red faced, shrugged apologetically before running after them.

Joyce smiled her face very red. "Well at least we're providing entertainment to the teens…"

Lolly looked around the door. "The adults thought it quite amusing too. You do realize Harry and I were standing here for a full five minutes before the kids showed up to see what we were doing?"

Joyce picked up an orange from the fruit bowl and threw it at her twin. "Go away! Let me kiss in peace."

"Well I'd like something to eat tonight, so no. Get to work you two. I don't care how good Joyly looks in glasses, I want food!"

Simon sighed. "Oh, very well. Joyce, you entertain them. If you stay here we'll never get it done."

Harry laughed and Lolly dragged her sister of the stool. "Stop distracting the man with your alluring ways sis. You can come outside and tell me all about him…"

Joyce cast one last longing look into the kitchen, much to her sister's amusement and then allowed herself to be dragged outside.

Dinner was duly prepared, in such quantities that Janice as well as Xander, who came by on the off chance, could join the party. The visitors left around nine, Simon dropping of Janice at home the teens at the bronze with the injunction to be home at half past eleven at the latest. Dawn had put on PJ's when Simon came home, kissed him good night and was reluctantly herded upstairs by her mother to get some sleep. When she got down stairs again she was caught at the bottom of the stairs.

Buffy and Willow walked into the Summers' house after a short patrol and a long talk at the bronze.

Willow grasped her friend's arm and pointed at a familiar shape hanging off the banister. A pair of shoes was lying discarded haphazardly on the bottom steps. "Buffy…is that a bra?"

Buffy groaned. "Oh god. They did not…" She closed her eyes and almost staggered into the living room. Joyce was, sitting with her feet on the couch, stockinged toes wriggling against a pillow, leaning into Simon, reading a book on sixteenth century silver marks and Simon was reading a rather garish paperback edition of the Bonfire of the vanities.

Joyce glanced at the clock. "Fifteen minutes late young ladies…"

Buffy looked at them in wide eyed shock… "You're not…not…"

"Making like bunnies? "Joyce asked dryly, looking at them over her glasses. For some reason it made Willow feel three years old and back in kindergarten. "We do have some measure of self control you know. I'll let the lateness of the hour be your excuse. Which lateness we will be speaking about later. Bed, now. I'll be up in fifteen minutes. You two had better be ready."

Willow nearly squeaked. "Yes Ms Summers!" and was out of the room before Buffy could stop her. Her mother rose, clothes in perfect order.

"But..your bra..shoes…"

Joyce rolled her eyes. "The bra was chafing, one of the underwires has worn through. And I admit I threw the shoes towards the stairs instead of walking there." She looked at her feet. "I was just nice and warm and comfy."

"Oh…" Buffy blinked. "Ummm… "

"Thirteen minutes left." Buffy ran upstairs. Joyce sat down. "That was rather clever of you, setting the alarm for ten minutes before they had to be home."

"I figured you'd prefer not to be caught like rutting teenagers."

"I had enough of that this afternoon." She smiled. I don't mind the rutting part. It's the getting caught part that gets to me."

"I must admit there is a certain naughty thrill to it…"

"Enough that you want to face my sixteen year old daughter and her best friend and explain why your hands are on my breasts?"

Simon seemed to ponder her question. "I think I need more experience with the latter before I can answer the former."

She flicked his ear lightly. "Twit."

"Gorgeous." He rose, stretched and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Be seeing you tomorrow."

"No."

Simon blinked, looking worried. "I'm sorry?"

"You're not leaving. As Lolly pointed out to me we're on something like our seventh date. And we may not get beyond kissing tonight, but…" She sighed. "I'd just like to be able to fall asleep in your arms."

"I can do that. Very sopoforic, me."

"Just get your bag out of the car, ok? I'll go tuck in the girls."

"I'll be right back."

Joyce performed her nightly ritual, tucking in Willow and Buffy. Buffy was getting a touch exasperated by it, but she knew Willow loved the attention and would never embarrass her friend by refusing; knowing Wills would not dare ask for it if Buffy refused to be tucked in.

Joyce checked on Dawn and then went back downstairs. Simon's bags were by the stairs and he was turning out the lights. She hesitated, then moved towards him, putting her arms around his waist and hugged herself into his well muscled back. "You do understand, don't you…"

Simon turned in her arms. "Completely." He hesitated. "I may not be the most restful bed partner Joyce…"

"Nightmares?" She put a hand to his face.

"Yes."

"Your father?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes Vietnam."

"Oh! I didn't realize…"

"I served in a M.A.S.H. I think the last one was a while ago, but…" He shrugged, looking at his feet.

"We'll deal. Come on." She took his hand, leading him upstairs.


	8. Chapter 8

Mantis women and Great grand Uncle Gabriel

Joyce woke warmer than usual, her pillow was much harder than usual too and yet she felt more rested. She reached for her contacts and encountered her glasses. She smiled, realizing just what she was lying on and why her glasses were there. She snuggled into the warm shoulder. Simon's arm tightened around her and she sighed, content.

She felt his voice rumble in his chest. "We need to get up and feed the kids breakfast."

She chuckled. "It's Sunday. We can wait a bit."

"You just want Buffy to walk in here and 'wig out'."

"Stop trying to be up to date, it doesn't suit you." She glanced at the clock. "Ah well, nine thirty. You want to shower first?"

"I'll be ready in eight minutes."

Joyce blinked. "Wow. Fast."

"You learn to be fast in 'Nam. Groton was worse. Wet towel tag is a great motivator." He gave a mock shudder. "I've not had the urge to take longer shower for a very long time."

Simon was down ten minutes later, heading out the door to get the bakery goods he wanted. Joyce took a longer shower and headed to her eldest daughter's room. Buffy was awake, sitting on her bed cuddling Mr. Gordo, looking at Willow who was still sleeping holding a rather tatty teddy bear.

Buffy looked like she had been crying. Her eyes widened as she saw her mother. She rose rather shakily, trying to bypass Joyce, who took her arm and led her into her own bedroom.

"Buffy, what's wrong?"

"Simon stayed over…" It was not a question.

"Yes." There was no use denying it.

"I just…You and dad are never going to get together again are you?"

Joyce sighed, cuddling her daughter and her stuffed pig. "No Buffy. That will never happen."

"I knew that. But it's just…" Buffy started crying again.

"I understand. Buffy…"

"I'm sorry mom. I'm sorry. It's all my fault…"

"Buffy Ann Summers!" Joyce pushed her daughter away, looking her straight in the eyes. "The divorce was not your fault. Your father and I had been growing apart for years; we were no longer the people we were when we married." She hugged Buffy tightly again. "And I will not have you blaming yourself. You are not the cause; you were not even the catalyst."

"For you as well as dad?" Buffy asked between her sniffs.

"Yes love."

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"What's a cata whatsit?"

Jocye giggled. "Buffy you know very well what catalyst is. Stop talking yourself down."

"Yes mom. Mom?"

"Yes lovey?"

"I do like Simon."

"I'm glad to hear it. Feel a bit better?"

"Hmm. Mom?"

"Yes?"

"I love you, I don't tell you that enough."

"I love you too Buffy. Now, do you want to wake Dawn or Willow?"

"Can I use a wet washcloth?"

Joyce poked her daughter gently. Buffy grinned. "No. I assume that means you pick Willow?"

"Yeah. Mom, thank you for letting her stay over so often."

"No problem dear. She's a lovely girl. But if I ever meet her parents…"

"Unlikely. They're gone more than half the year."

Joyce shook herself. "Well, if I need to wake Dawn before Simon gets back with the baked goods I need to get going."

"So that is where he's going?" Buffy smiled. "I wonder if we can get him to buy donuts…"

"Probably. Go wake Willow."

"Ok." Buffy gave her mother a last hug and went back to her room, Mr. Gordo in tow. Joyce went into Dawn's room, sitting down on the bed. She put a hand on Dawn's shoulder and the girl slithered away grumbling.

"G'way."

"Wakey wakey Dawn."

"S'too 'rly. G'way."

Joyce put a hand on her youngest hair. "If you don't get up you won't get scones and bagels…"

"Sim'n 'll save me s'm. G'way."

"Dawn…If you don't get up I'll let Buffy have go. With a washcloth."

Dawn peeled an eye open and glared at her mother. "Ugh."

"Very eloquent. Get up love."

"Yes mom. But calling in the Buff-beast is not fair."

Joyce had to stifle a giggle. "I shall ask Willow to do it, hmm? Now get up, Simon will be back soon."

Dawn's eyes flew wide. "Back?"

Joyce felt her blush rising at her daughters' intense inquisitive gaze. *She's going to be a terror when she's sixteen…* "Yes, back. Now get dressed."

""Kay. We going anywhere today?"

"Depends on your homework and if Simon has plans."

"Oh. I have to do some maths. Do you know if Simon is any good at maths?"

"No idea, ask him."

Joyce was in the kitchen, squeezing juice, when the doorbell rang. A tall, African American man in his late forties was standing on the doorstep, immaculately dressed in a dark suit, lightly graying curls cut closely to his head, a firm mouth and slender nose looking down at her from a height of at least six foot six.

"Ms. Summers?"

"Ummm? Yes?"

"I am sorry to disturb you ma'am, but Dr Meier did not sleep at home last night…"

Joyce felt her mouth twitch. "I assume you are Mr. Miller?"

"Just Miller ma'am."

"Dr Meier spent the night here. He's on the bakery run."

She saw the man relax, just ever so slightly. "Thank you. I will not disturb you any further. Have a pleasant Sunday ma'am."

"Thank you Miller. Miller…Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes Ma'am. Thank you."

"And I assume you won't come in…"

"Dr. Meier was quite explicit. Dr. Meier knows how to reach me."

"And I'll make certain he does. Don't worry Miller." Joyce looked amused.

"Thank you ma'am. It will be a great relief." He nodded in thanks and greeting and walked crisply away.

Joyce closed the door and went back to the kitchen, the three girls entering at almost the same time. Willow's hair was in twin braids tied with green ribbon and it was obvious to Joyce Dawn had a hand in that.

Good mornings were exchanged and places set and Simon arrived with the baked goods, a box of Scones, another of bagels and third of donuts. He shrugged. "Xander expressed an interest in donuts. I hope they will find a good home…"

The box was received with cheers. Joyce sighed. After breakfast Joyce and Simon would take Dawn back to the park and Willow looked at them with longing. Buffy went into the living room and picked up the phone, calling Xander.

"Xand? Its Buffy. Look Will's and I are going to the playground with Mom, Dawn and Simon. You can tag along. If you don't mind hanging in the park, it'll be nice to get some outside air. We can do some homework there too."

Xander yawned. "Yeah sure. I'll be there. Are there any bagels?"

"Indeed. Simon got donuts as well. I doubt not that the box will be brought."

"The man is a marvel. Super Simon, Bringer of bakery goodness."

"Ayup. By the playground, 'k?"

"Yeah, see you there."

Buffy hung up and walked back into the kitchen. "Mom, you don't mind if Willow and I tag along? I mean, we can do our homework in the park, right? And if Xander comes too?"

Joyce laughed. "No problem dear. If you think you can handle adult affection…"

Buffy winced. "I'll bring earplugs and a blindfold."

Willow grinned, her delight clearly showing.

Willow and Buffy were sitting on a park bench by an old stump, studying ants, as Simon explained the ways of insect communication. Dawn was running through the playground, chased by Xander. The skillful application of a small portion of her ice cream down his shirt had elicited an immediate reaction. Several of Dawn's friends had joined in the Xander baiting and Joyce was still reading on the marks of silversmiths.

"Scent and touch are important ways of communication for all insects, but ants as social insects will leave trails of pheromones and other chemicals for the ants behind them to follow and excrete different scents if they want to communicate different things, like danger. Stepping on an ant will release chemicals that alert ants to danger, the formic acid they use when biting alerts other ants as well. Touch is less important than scent. Now for instance bees communicate with the bees' dance that is still not completely understood." Simon watched as three ants made their way over his hand. "Ants are exceptionally useful scavengers of plant and animal and some are also pollinators."

"Pollinators? Like flower pollination?" Willow asked, taking notes on a small pad.

"Yes, but not North American species, that I am aware off."

Ah, ok."

Buffy sighed. "Yay for the joys of insect communication."

Simon laughed. "Anything else I might help with?"

"Can you tell us anything about the Founding Fathers?" Willow was still writing. "We're doing a project and we can't decide who to pick to do a special on."

Simon started laughing. Buffy looked at Willow, who shrugged. "It's not that funny! I mean, it's hard to decide." Buffy could see that Willow was getting uncertain and that her lip trembled. To be laughed at by Simon was doing wonders for her self confidence. "Look, we're just asking ok? No need to make fun of us."

"No, no, it's just… Do you have your history book with you?"

Willow nodded, grabbing her book bag and dragging out the hefty American history book. Simon leafed through it quickly until he reached a large two page reproduction of Trumbull's _Presentation of the draft of the Declaration of independence by the Committee of Five_. He looked at it for a moment and then tapped one of the delegates. "There. Simon Hendrick Coenraad Meier IX, signer of the Declaration of Independence."

Willow's eyes grew very wide. Buffy gaped, speechless. Willow looked at the reproduction, then at Simon. "He looks just like you…"

"No, I look just like him. I believe he had a rather ugly scar and was badly pockmarked but apparently Trumbull got his good side." He snorted. "Probably got paid handsomely to pretty him up."

Buffy had gone very pale. "Oh god. Does mom know?"

Simon scratched his nose, suddenly uncertain. "Well, it never came up. Umm." Buffy jumped up; dragging her mother, book still in hand, to where Willow was still gazing at the history book.

"Buffy, what's wrong, did anyone get bitten?" Joyce looked alarmed.

"No mom, just, Simon told us something."

Joyce looked at the picture. "Oh. Is this about the Founding Father thing?"

Buffy let out a sigh of exasperation. "You knew!"

Joyce ruffled her hair and then knelt next to Simon, putting an arm around his waist. "You told me there was a book about his family. I went to your High School and asked the librarian if I could borrow it, he was quite helpful. If a bit amused." She gave her daughter and houseguest a look. "You might have read the thing; half of it seems to be about him." She pointed at the stern looking man in the wig in the painting.

"Yah. That might have saved us some embarrassment." Buffy grinned. "Sooo…can we bring you in for show and tell?"

"BUFFY!" Joyce glared at her daughter. To her surprise Simon and Willow let out almost similar giggles. Simon waved at Joyce.

"I don't mind. But no. I'll help, but I have no desire to get prodded in a history class."

Joyce sighed. "So, can I get back to my reading?"

Simon shook his head, trapping her against him. "Nope, you'll have to pay a toll." Buffy groaned, closing her eyes and putting her hands over her ears. "I'm not seeing this! Or hearing this."

Willow looked a bit uncomfortable. "Oh, look an ant. I'll just follow it and see what it eats. Umm, Buffy? You want to follow the ant? I'm sure it will be really educational and umm, away from umm…" Buffy rose immediately. "Yeah. Follow the ant. Good idea Wills. Let's follow the ant really, really quickly. And far, far away."

The girls left almost at a run and Joyce looked at Simon. "That was mean."

Simon grinned, kissing her lips as they turned towards him. "Effective though." He kissed her thoroughly. "Toll paid. Still want to read?"

Her face was a bit flushed and her lips swollen with kissing. "Want, no, should yes. If we continue we'll get picked up for public indecency."

Simon grinned. "A valid point. I'll go track the ant, help the girls with picking a Founding Father to study."

"Simon…Uhmmm." She reached up to him as he rose and kissed him, gently. "Now you can go." He nodded, running a thumb over her lips.

"I'll go after them, then pin down Dawn and Janice. They've got to calculate the size of the original Spanish settlement as compared to the current size of LA. I rather like the way Ms. Mellowes thinks."

"Hmm. Dawn loves her. She's really settling rather well. Want to stay over again tonight?"

She said it as he walked away. He turned and smiled widely. "Yes, please."

"Just don't forget to tell Miller this time."

"He called?" Simon looked annoyed.

"He came by while you were buying bagels. Simon, he really was worried."

"I know. It's just…" He shrugged.

"Just call him. If you want vengeance, have him babysit. Have him tell Buffy and Willow about Simon IX."

Simon chuckled. "Actually he might enjoy that. He knows more about the family than I do, I sometimes think. He was ecstatic when I told him I was going here. Less happy when I told him he should stay behind. We compromised with him staying in a hotel in Sunnydale."

There was a terrible yell from the playground. "That sounds like Xander. I'll go rescue him. You go find Willow and Buffy."

"Miss Summers, perhaps you can tell me how insects, ants in particular, communicate?" Dr Gregory's voice cut through Buffy's mental fog and she recalled the ant that walked over Simon's still hand.

"Touch and scent, scent being the most important. They release different types of chemicals depending on the situation; they make trails the other ants follow, finding food."

Dr. Gregory gave her a slightly amazed, if happy glance. The rest of the class was gaping. And Willow was looking at her as if she was the greatest thing since sliced bread, so broad was her smile. The bell rang.

"Alright, chapters six through eight by tomorrow, people. Can I see you for a moment Miss Summers?"

Buffy nodded, resigned, waiting until the others had left the room. Buffy  
leaned against a lab table. Dr. Gregory idly looked at some slides

"I gather you had a few problems at your last school?"

Buffy smiled nervously. "Well, what teenager doesn't?"

"Cut school, get in fights, burn down the gymnasium... Principal Flutie showed me your permanent record."

Dr Gregory walked to the front of the class, followed by Buffy.

"Well, that fire, I mean, there was major extenuating circumstances. Actually, it's, uh, kinda funny!"

"Can't wait to see what you're gonna do here." He stressed the last word.

Walking to the closet, he retrieved his other glasses from his coat and cleaned them.

Buffy looked down, a little shaken. "Destructo Girl. That's me."

Dr. Gregory smiled at her. "But I suspect it's gonna be great."

Buffy blinked her surprise "You mean, 'great' in a bad way?"

Dr. Gregory looked at her and then his glasses, pensively. "You have a first-rate mind and you can think on your feet. Today I finally saw what you can do if you do the…"

Buffy smiled. "...the homework thing."

Dr. Gregory grinned. "Yes, the homework thing. I understand you probably have a good excuse for not doing it until now." He walked back to the closet, adjusted his coat and closed the door. "Amazingly enough, I don't care. I know now you can excel in this class, and so I expect no less. Is that clear?"

Buffy nodded enthusiastically "Yeah! Sure."

"Don't be sorry, be smart." He looked at another slide. "And please don't listen to the principal or anyone else's negative opinion about you. Let's make 'em eat that permanent record. Whadaya say?"

He looked up at Buffy and gave her a little smile. She smiled back.

"Okay! Thanks."

He nodded his head, Buffy grabbed her bag.

Dr. Gregory called after her. "Chapters six through eight!" 

Buffy looked back, smiled and winked and Dr Gregory chuckled, smiling to himself as he went through his slides, selecting what he wanted to use.

Buffy and Willow slunk into the kitchen to be welcomed by Joyce. "Hello dears. I'm not going to ask how your day was."

"You know?" Buffy swallowed convulsively.

"The murder of a teacher gets around dear. The school counselor called to say you discovered the body. I'm so sorry love."

Buffy started crying again, burying her face in her mother's shoulder, heaving great sobs. Willow's lips started trembling and Joyce gathered her in before she could protest or wonder. She held the two crying teens until the tears dried and she sat them on the kitchen stools.

"Would you like something? There's some donuts and tea, juice, coffee, milk, soda…" While she was speaking she absentmindedly put the donuts on the island and a glass of apple juice for Willow and a coke for Buffy.

Buffy smiled a watery little smile. "Mom, why do you ask what we want if you know what we're going to ask anyway?"

Joyce blinked, looking at what she had been doing. "Oh. Ummm. Sorry. Did you want something else?"

Buffy grinned. When her mother got nervous or upset she got all, well, motherly. "No mom, it's perfect. Thanks. You're home early, and I see no Simon?" She glanced around.

"Simon's watching the Gallery, which is nice of him. I wanted to be home for you and otherwise I would have had to close, Marianne's got the flu."

Buffy reached out and took her mother's hand. "Thanks mom."

Willow looked at the apple juice. Her own mother did not know that it was her favourite and Ms Summers had just put it there for her without thinking. Her own mother forgot her birthday. Her own mother did not go to PTA meetings, know what classes she took. Ms Summers came home to be there for Buffy. Tears started again and Joyce moved to her and hugged her tight. "There, there. It will be alright love, I'm here for you."

Joyce couldn't see the effect her words had on Willow. The girl's eyes widened in shocked surprise and then squeezed shut as a beatific smile appeared on her face. Tears still ran down her face but her sniffles lessened and she tightly hugged Joyce back. "Thank you."

Joyce smiled. "Don't worry Willow; I'll be here whenever you need me."

Buffy smiled at Willow over Joyce's shoulder, her own smile almost as wide as Willow's.

Willow sniffled. "I'm sorry. It's just you're so nice to me." She hiccupped.

"I understand Willow. And it is my very great pleasure." She gave the girl a final squeeze and Willow hiccupped again. "Now drink something for those hiccups." She said mock sternly. Willow nodded, obeying quickly.

Joyce sat listening to her daughter and her daughter's best friend as the told her about the nice kind man whose headless body they had found and wondered into what sort of town she had moved her family. If she'd wanted gruesome murders she'd have moved to Detroit. She helped mourn a man she had never met for the kindness he'd shown both her girls.

The faculty lounge was filling up and principal Flutie was talking to a statuesque woman, his hands and chins fluttering as she smiled at him, her dark eyes and hair riveting the gazes of many members of the faculty. The males looked in admiration, the females in exasperation.

Rupert Giles eyed her with clinical detachment. He had been with many women in his disastrous youth and felt no particular attraction to this one. She was a tad too cold, too calculating in the way she treated the teachers she shook hands with, she sniffed the air a little too deliberately. Her manner was a touch too…forward. No matter how physically attractive she might be, she was not…quite right. He saw the lithe form of Jenny Calendar in the corner, sipping coffee, glare fixed on the fawning men around the substitute and the others who merely stood gazing in silent admiration. He decided a little teasing might be in order, it was not often the unflappable young woman was this affected by well…anything.

Jenny Calendar sipped her coffee and looked at the woman and felt the _wrongness_ about her. All the senses her grandmother had wanted her to train, all the things she had learned and had so desperately tried to avoid were coming back to her. She cursed the elders of her clan for dragging her out of her comfortable existence and forcing her to perform this so called sacred duty. She'd been perfectly happy in Massachusetts, writing code and now here she was, watching a dead guy walk around and teaching kids the basics of computing. Admittedly the last bit was more fun than she expected, but still! And the other teachers were almost technophobic in the way they treated computers.

Everyone was watching the French woman… Even the oh so staid and proper librarian. The most technophobic of them all. Suddenly the man turned toward her and walked over.

"Not going to introduce your self to the new substitute Miss Calendar?"

"I already shook hands."

"I notice that many members of the faculty seem very eager to be in her company."

"I cannot imagine why." Jenny tightened her fingers around her mug of coffee.

"It is a strange thing that the mere form, shape of a person mesmerizes so many."

"You don't think she's attractive?" Jenny was honestly surprised.

"As I said, her form is attractive, in a common sort of way. From what I've seen her demeanour is less so."

"Oh. So what do you look for in a woman?" Despite her self Jenny was interested what this man would find interesting. * Probably bigger breasts*

*She really is lovely. A pity she's so young. No A pity I'm so old. A pity I lead the life I do.* "Intelligence, vivacity and a kind heart. If you will excuse me, I should be in the library." He gave her his slight bow and left. Jenny stood looking after him in some confusion.

Simon was seated on the hood of his car when Buffy, Willow and Xander came out of Sunnydale High the day after the demise of the Mantis woman. He was wearing jeans and an old tight fitting t-shirt with the nearly washed out face of John Lennon on it. Giles was sitting beside him and they were discussing Greek epigrams, as far as Willow could tell.

"Hello all. Ready to visit a building site?"

The three looked at each other. "Yeah, sure."

He waved them into the back seat and Giles got in next to the driver. Simon pulled away smoothly and drove off. "So, what can you tell us about the house?" Giles asked with genuine curiosity.

"Not very much I'm afraid. It was never used by the main branch; it was built in the early 1850's for a younger son named Gabriel Alexander Fillmore Meier, who lived there for a few years before dying of pneumonia. He was a little too fond of wine, women and song, so how true that is I don't know. Syphilis is a good possibility. We kept it in the family because of the rather extensive water rights that come with the property as long as there is a habitable house on it. The Estate workers' cottages are rather dilapidated but being repaired and renovated this time round. The house sits in a park and farm estate of about 6000 acres, mostly wild woodland by now. The place is….rather overgrown."

"6000 acres? Good lord…" Giles blinked rapidly.

"It's one of the larger estates, but again mostly for the water rights. The house is much like an Old South manor, I think, but I don't believe we ever kept slaves here."

Willow squawked. "Y-you kept slaves?"

"It was quite the rigueur back in those days. Our cotton plantations in the south housed several thousand at the peak of the family's slave ownership." Simon shrugged apologetically. "Slaves, tobacco and firearms as well as stealing land from natives and small farmers. That's how we got rich."

"Oh. Well I suppose that you're not the only one…"

Simon smiled into the rear view mirror. "Hardly. Were driving by the park now, they're fixing the wall."

A great wall, seven or eight feet high, made of rough stone and mortar was being rebuilt part by part, workmen stacking stone, and they drove by it for a mile or so as on the opposite side of the road the apartments and houses that looked onto the park marched by. The three teens and the librarian fell silent as the Volvo turned between to great pillars. There were no gates and builders were putting in place bright steel hinges. Others were replacing the window frames of a sizeable house that stood next to it. A long, two storey brick building with half Doric columns set against it and a slate covered mansard roof was visible through the trees about half a mile way to the right. Xander whistled. "Big."

Simon glanced aside. "The Home Farm. Most of the casual labour and the farmhands were housed there. It was mostly empty except for harvest time."

Willow gulped audibly. "T-that's not the main house?"

"Oh, heaven's no. Hooghwater is much more…ostentatious." Simon rolled his eyes and grimaced.

Silence filled the car as the three teens exchanged wide eyed glances. Giles polished his glasses. The car drove on, the beech lined driveway being cleared here and there of the overgrowth of decades, the pedestals of statuary visible between them. Giles cleared his throat. "Might cost a bit to replace the statues."

"They're in the great barn; I seem to recall a report that they were stored there in the '50's but the house never really had my attention. Also Uncle Gabriel's taste in decorating might be called…questionable."

"Questionable?" Buffy asked with a smirk.

"He owned the largest collection of printed pornography in the western hemisphere. I've still got it somewhere." Xander perked up, interested.

Buffy felt her face grow red. "Y-you do?"

He gave her a wry grin. "Can you imagine trying to sell that? Or donating it to the Congressional Library?"

Giles laughed. "Good lord, I can just imagine the uproar. So the statuary… Secret museum stuff?"

"Very much so."

A gleam of white became visible and a large house, red brick with white Corinthian columns and a broad portico, with a balcony cutting it in two, rose before them, the green slate roof a contrast to the white columns and weathered brick. Two banks of windows rose and large basement grilles were visible, the dormers on the roof being repaired by several carpenters and roofers. The great paneled wooden doors, between carved stone pillars stood wide under a great half moon of stained glass, showing a two faced being, probably Janus. Simon stopped the car and got out, glancing around critically. A tall African American, hard hat in hand, exited the house and walked onto the portico, stopping at the top of the five broad steps to the stone patio.

"Dr Meier, welcome home sir."

Simon sighed. "Miller. I should have known."

"Indeed sir." The man bowed slightly at each of the others in turn. "I assume these are Miss Summers, Miss Rosenberg and Mr Harris? And this would be Dr. Giles?"

Buffy bounded up the stairs. "Hello, I'm Buffy. And you are?"

"Miller, Miss Summers." He appraised her coolly, if politely.

"That's your first name?" Buffy crossed her arms, gazing right back at him.

"No Miss Summers, it is not. It is however, how I'm supposed, and prefer, to be addressed." Buffy looked rebellious and Giles put a calming hand on her shoulder.

"Buffy, if Miller prefers it…"

Willow tugged on Simon's arm and whispered at him. He nodded. "Miller's official title is House Steward or Estate manager; he's in charge of all of my estates and private homes, though he tends to take a personal interest in my well being." He gave the other man a fond if exasperated look.

Giles could have sworn he saw Miller's lips twitch. "I see that someone else has done so recently sir? Jeans sir? And the Lennon t-shirt?" He sounded slightly disbelieving.

Simon flushed. "Joy…Ms Summers expressed an interest in seeing me in denim. The shirt is… comfortable."

"Indeed sir." He raised an eyebrow. "I'm certain she finds it very becoming" Buffy released a sound halfway between a snigger and a groan. Simon glared and stalked up the stairs, Willow and Xander in tow.

"Shall we have a look at the place?" Miller nodded and preceded them, gesturing to a pile of variously coloured hard hats on a work table. He handed a dark red one to Buffy, a green one to Willow, a blue one to Xander and two white ones to Simon and Giles, putting on his own rather battered polished metal one.

Buffy put the helm on as she gazed around the huge entrance hall. "Wow. How big is it anyway?"

Miller answered her. "The house has a basement, a ground floor, a second storey and an attic. A central building and two wings, about 7000 square feet. The house servants were once housed in the attic and basement. In its current incarnation it has eighteen double bedrooms and a master bedroom on the second floor, each with two dressings room or walk in closets and full bath. The servants' rooms are rather smaller and share five bathrooms among them. The basement contains a wine cellar, the kitchen, the butler's apartment, the housekeeper's apartment, the pantry and the plate room, as well as the boiler. There is electricity and heating, but both were installed in the early '30's and require replacement. We're looking at moving the heater to the attic, to improve the fall of water and use solar heat to warm the water."

The teens huddled closer together as the description went on, taking in the wide, sweeping staircase, the marble floors, the paneling and carved lintels, the decorated plaster ceilings being restored as they looked.

"Installed in the thirties? I thought no work had been done…" Simon stopped mid sentence, his face twisting in distaste. "Oh. Of course. Is there any furniture?"

"In quite good condition, it is currently being stored in the barn, which has a good solid roof. It is of sometimes questionable taste."

Buffy looked up at the putti cavorting on the ceiling. "One guy lived here?"

Simon pursed his lips. "Well, him and his servants and his concubines and catamites I would think. At least that is what his diaries say. Very explicit."

Buffy gawped. "C-concubines? Cata whats?" Willow blushed at the same time. Xander grinned, his eyes wide.

Giles cleaned his glasses. "He kept a harem? Of both sexes?" Xander bright grin changed into a light flush, Willow blushed even deeper and Buffy's face grew red as well.

"That might be an appropriate description, yes. Very forward thinking in some ways, Uncle Gabriel."

"Good lord. The furniture…?"

Simon snorted. "Think the nineties are ready for me to sell of some of the more debauched works of the 1840's and nineteen thirties?"

Miller cleared his throat. "I do not think the family reputation would recover sir."

Simon raised both eyebrows, and then looked at the teens, eyeing Xander especially. "Lock the barn."

"Indeed sir, I have taken the liberty of doing so. And some of the basement rooms as well." Simon winced. "Wise man. Show us the less…salacious parts of the house please."

They explored the house which was in amazingly good condition for its supposed neglect, the main building and the two great wings in excellent state of external repair, the inside more modern than might have been expected. Some of the additions looked to have been made in the nineteen sixties and fifties and Simon's face darkened as he realized this. The rooms were spacious and light and being re upholstered in a simple style. The bedrooms on the family floor all had access through French doors to the great balcony, separate areas having been created by trellises on which potted roses had once grown. The roses had long ago been removed or died.

A large library, a huge dining room, a ballroom lined with mirrors that took up the ground floor of one of the wings, a set of water closets, a large cloak room, a gun room, three separate studies, an old style recreation room, a smaller dining room, and several rooms of uncertain purpose that Simon called drawing rooms. The basement held several closed doors, a large kitchen and servants' hall which was being upgraded to modern standards, and two basement apartments, the whole lit by clerestory windows. The wine cellar still held wines and spirits in the bins and racks when Miller dragged out a key and showed them round. The last had been laid down in 1971. Simon scowled blackly at that. The three teenagers walked with ever more dazed expressions on their faces while Giles seemed relatively unimpressed.

They left the house and wandered around the huge tract of woodland and overgrown park that surrounded it. Giles felt the presence of leylines, quiescent and placid, weaving their way through the area. A waterfall thundered down a steep hill, the center of a great mana point, untouched and unspoiled. Unlike the house, which made him feel edgy in ways he had not felt since his encounters with Eyghon, the park was restful, quiet, a vast reservoir of the strength of the earth in three of its elements. He breathed deeply as he stood in the heavily scented pine copse where a great monolithic rock, carved in Native American petroglyphs, stood a permanent marker to the power that rested there.

He heard a noise and felt the power before him answer it, whisper to it, felt a soothing murmur of love and affection absentmindedly bestowed yet no less meant as its master approached. He felt the peace around him deepen, the unease that lay on his mind from the atmosphere of the house finally leaving him.

"You do that very well." He turned, leaning against the monolith.

"Practice. My grandfather started teaching me when I was very young."

"Not your father?"

"My father was far too disappointed in my lack of power to bother with my magical education. For which in retrospect, I am very glad."

Giles nodded, understanding what the other man did not put into words. "It is a great skill, soothing the earth."

"Not singularly useful whilst combating the forces of Darkness." Simon pointed out.

Giles smiled, grimly. "Perhaps. But if it keeps others from abusing this place…"

"So, what happened?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"This week, what happened? What killed the teacher?"

Giles sighed. "A creature called a Mantis Woman. They erm…"

"Use virgin males to fertilize their eggs, while devouring the heads of their partners. Sometimes leave the corpses for the young to feed on." Simon nodded thoughtfully. "Nasty things."

Giles blinked and gawped. "Y-you know of them?"

"My great-grandfather killed one that was preying on young society men in New York." He pulled his chin. "Anyone injured?"

Giles shrugged. "One man killed beside the teacher. Xander's pride. He had to admit he was a virgin after it captured him. Willow was a bit…" He shrugged his shoulders, unwilling to explain how the redhead's words had only aggravated Xander's loss of masculinity in his own eyes.

Simon smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll have a word with him later. Reassure him."

Giles blinked. "About what?"

"Not being exceptional about still being a virgin at his age. Did you get the eggs?"

"Err, yes, there was a large number of them in her basement."

Simon scratched his nose with the back of his thumb. "I thought the teacher died in the school?"

"We think so. He was found in the kitchen."

"Then there will be eggs there. Either where he was killed or found, most likely the first."

Giles blinked "Oh dear. I'll have Buffy look tomorrow."

He gave the older man a thoughtful look. "You _have_ fought demons, haven't you?"

"On occasion. I do try to avoid it, like I said. Many of them are basically harmless, or not dissimilar from humanity. And those that aren't…Lets say I do my best." He sighed. "Do you want anything else here? I promised Joyce I'd help with the cooking."

"No, thank you. Except…" He looked around, breathing deeply.

"You can come here whenever you want. It is nice and restful is it not?"

"Very. I never imagined such a place could exist anywhere near the Hellmouth, let alone on it."

The two men walked back to the car in companionable silence.

Xander was sitting reading his science homework for the next day when Simon held out a large box with two donuts in it. "What say you we steal outside and scarf these down?" He winked conspirationally and Xander chuckled. "Lead on!"

They sat on the porch swing and ate their donuts. "I spoke to Giles. About what killed Dr. Gregory."

Xander winced. "Oh, joy."

"It's nothing to worry about you know."

"What is?"

Simon smiled at the bristling tone. "Being a virgin. It does not reflect on your masculinity in any way."

"Oh, it doesn't? Easy for you to say. When did you loose yours?"

"The family fortune lost its virginity at fifteen. Me? I've had to wait a very long time." He said it with a sad and bitter note in his voice.

Xander blinked. "Errr what?"

"Xander, my family is wealthy. My prospects at age fifteen were immense. Women have been throwing themselves at me for years. Not for who I am, but for the money that I have, stood to inherit."

"Yeah, but at least you've had sex. Lots of it probably."

"True. I've had quite a lot of sex. And far too little of making love."

"Same diff."

"You may not believe me now Xander, but casual and thoughtless sex, mere lust, is never as fulfilling as making love. If you really want to remember the first time as special, do not be afraid to wait." He shrugged. "I realize you're sixteen and full of hormones…And that the notion of a harem or a wild and wanton woman with no strings attached appeals to you. But there is always a price to pay for that sort of thing."

"Personal experience?" Xander looked thoughtful.

"Yes and no."

"Your father?"

"Yes. I was part of his price. So was my mother."

"It's just…"

"Don't worry so Xander. No matter what your classmates say, most of them have not done anything beyond second base." He smiled, a little whimsically. "Bragging in the locker room notwithstanding. And another very important lesson I've learned through hard experience is that a _gentleman_ never, ever kisses and tells." He reached out with his clean hand and ruffled the boy's hair. "Shall we go in? I'll help with the science homework."

Xander smiled. "Thanks. With both you and Willow there I even get some of it."

Simon put an arm around his shoulder. "Xander, you're not stupid. You have a very good mind; it merely runs in more practical channels."

"Sorry?" Xander looked honestly surprised.

"I'll show you sometime. But homework first." The teen nodded and they went back inside.


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 10: Catharsis and Climbing trees_

It was Friday afternoon and Buffy bounced into the office of Marcel Ovrion. He rose and gestured at the fridge. Good afternoon. Please, sit on the couch today. Coke?

Please. And good afternoon. She sat on the comfortable couch.

He poured her a large glass of soda and smiled. Buffy, I asked you in here first to brief you. Im going to ask you leading questions. I want you to ignore everything supernatural in your answers, just tell her what they did, do not mention biting or bloodsucking, dont be too graphic or descriptive. Youre a very bright young woman, so I think you will have no problems. I also think that if we give your mother some idea of what occurred before you burned down the gym it will allow her to understand you better.

Buffy nodded. I supposeUmmm Youll help when I mess up? And, umm shouldnt we, you know do talk through what we are going to say?

Actually telling your mother like this will be good practice for the hearing later. If one is even needed, which I doubt.

Buffy sighed. Ok. Ill trust you.

Dont worry. Ill take care of everything. Simon told you I would. And a Simon promise is a Simon promise.

You know Simon promises? Buffy found the notion peculiar, if amusing.

I have children. He grinned. Shall we get your mother in here?

Ok.

Buffy looked up as her mother walked into the office. Marcel was standing by his desk, and walked forward to shake hands, smiling. Ms. Summers. Please, take a seat. Can I get you something to drink?

Joyce nodded. Can I have a cup of tea?

Buffy added dryly. She prefers Earl Grey. The same brand Simon drinks. Can I have another coke?

Joyce blushed lightly at the words. Marcel smiled and prepared the drinks, taking a cup of coffee for himself. Its a pity Mr. Summers could not be here. But I think we can make good progress with the three of us here. He sipped his coffee.

What Im planning to do next is unorthodox, but Ive found it useful, cathartic if you will. I will ask Buffy about the things that occurredand that led to her actions. The session were going to haveI will not deny it will be hard on both of you. If you prefer we can take this more slowly, over several sessions.

Buffy looked at her mother. I-Id like to get it over withplease.

Marcel smiled slightly, a bit sadly. I can imagine. Joyce?

Joyce nodded, thoughtfully. Whatever Buffy wantsI suppose

We can stop if she ants to. Youll tell us that wont you, Buffy?

Buffy nodded, her face resolute. Lets do this.

Marcel nodded. Very well. He took another sip of his drink, as if to fortify himself.

He sipped his coffee. Now Buffy, Im going to ask you some questions and Joyce, I want you just to listen. Try not to interrupt. He rose and picked up a squeeze ball from his desk. Hold on to that and squeeze as hard as you want when things get too bad for you.

Joyce nodded, her expression doubtful.

Buffy, you told me you met a gang. When did you first encounter them?

I was, umm well. She blushed and looked at her mother. Going on a sort of date with this guy and I saw these other guys and they werebeating up a trampreal bad. She swallowed as the memory returned to her. *I didnt think itd be this bad rememberingkilling vamps, thats one thingbut what they didOh God*

Joyce squeezed her ball.

What did you do?

I yelled for them to stop, and they stopped beating up the tramp. And then they came towards us and we ran andthey followed we got in my dates car and drove off.

Did you meet them again?

They hung around the school. Looking forfun She took a large gulp of her drink, put the glass down.

What sort of fun?

They liked hurting people. Beating them. Cutting them.

Did they sexually assault people?

Buffy closed her eyes tightly and shivered. Yes.

Did you see that occur?

I saw what they had donefound some She swallowed. Joyces fingers were white as they dug into the ball.

People you knew?

School matesclassmates.A girl called Kathy from my Cheerleader squad. She was so prettythey cut herafterafter Tears were running down Buffys face. Joyce was pale and her eyes were very wide, lips pressed so strongly together that her mouth was a mere fold in her face.

What happened to Kathy?

She died.

What did the police do?

They said was not related. Not one gang. They did nothing. They were just runaways. Accidents. They did nothing.

And that made you mad.

Yes.

And your parents

Were fighting. Buffy looked down, not meeting her mothers distraught gaze.

Did you tell anyone then?

There was guy Id met in the park. An older man, Id met before, John Merrick. I was crying one day and he sat next to me. Mom and dad had had a big fight andHe was a nice man and he listened.

So you told him about the gang?

Yes.

How did he react?

He listened. Helped me deal. We talked.

The gang was mostly younger members?

Yes.

But it had a leader?

Yes. Older. Richer. Evil. More evil

I see. Buffy, when did you first meet the leader of this gang?

I was walking home from schoolHe was hurting a guy. Buffy swallowed.

Did he say anything to you? Do anything?

He said I looked like a lovely morselThat he couldnt wait to taste meHe killedkilled the guy and then he walked to me and I ran Buffys tears ran down her face and he handed her a tissue.

He caught you.

Yes.

Did he touch you?.

Buffy drew her feet up on the couch and cried into her knees. Joyce threw her stress ball against the wall where it split from the force of the impact, raining down the gritty contents and rose from her seat on the couch, moving next to Buffy so fast she seemed to blur.

Im here honey, Im here. Dont worry, no one will hurt you, Im here.

Buffy sobbed into her shoulder. Joyce glared at the silent psychiatrist. Dont you dare say a word.

He gave her a small smile. I wont.

After a few minutes Buffy calmed down. Joyce kept a hold of her. She looked at Marcel. Does shecan she

By all means, your mother may hold you. But let us continue. He caught you. What did he do?

His handsall over me. Buffy swallowed and Joyce hugged her closer, wiping at the tears running down her daughters face.

Buffy drew a deep breath. I got away. The nice manMerrickhe gave me self defence training.

Joyce smiled approvingly and murmured. Well done him.

Did you meet him again, this gang leader? Marcel addressed this to Buffy.

Hesaid he liked meI was feistyfungood to play with She swallowed convulsively, grabbed her coke and drank.

He chased meFollowed metaunted meHis gang kept hurting people. Tears ran down her face and Joyce held her, murmuring soft words of solace as she tried to keep her own tears contained.

And what happened then?

I was talking to Merrick about what we could doAnd then they showed up. Theyhe was going to torture Merrick andget my name and stuffMerrick Buffy started sobbing again and Joyce held her, rubbing her shoulders and back, an angry glint in her eyes.

Merrick killed himself. ShotWith his old army gun. But he had my address and they found it. Buffy gulped in great breaths of air and sobbed again.

How did you find out they had your name and address?

He followed me homeand momshe picked up Dawn from schooland he saidhe said he was going torape them bothall of us, in front of each other. Buffy sobbed hysterically into her mothers shoulder and Joyce held her close, hugging her as if there would be no tomorrow, her face white and strained with anger and anguish.

Marcel was quiet as Joyce comforted her daughter as best she could. He could see the towering rage in the older woman and knew that at least part of that anger was directed at him, for making Buffy relive these things, a lot at herself, for being unaware of the depth of her daughters trauma, at the institution theyd sent her to, that had dealt with it so inadequately and most of all at the man whod inflicted the pain. It took Joyce almost ten minutes before Buffy was capable of speech again, before Marcel thought it possible to continue.

And what did you decide to do?

The police wouldnt listen before. I knew they wouldnt do anything. Joyce shivered at the steely resolve in her daughters voice. *Oh merciful God. What did she do?*

They were in the school gym, it was prom night. They had a couple of friends of mine, held them in the locker rooms. I got them out through the windows.

And then?

I confronted the son of bitch. Buffy said it with obvious satisfaction and Joyce shuddered at the cold, hard rage in her voice. I shot him. A couple of candles fell over as some of his gang ran about and set fire to the gym.

The gang was inside?

Or they ran. I didnt really care at the time. Buffy felt her mothers arms stiffen around her, then tighten. *Well mom, your little girl is a killer. Now you know. Thanks Marcel.*

Marcel nodded. Thank you Buffy. I realize it was very difficult for you to talk about this, especially in front of your mother. Maybe youd like to freshen up? Theres a washroom through that door. Joyce was sitting stiffly, her face an expressionless mask, her arms still tightly if gently holding Buffy. As Buffy made to rise she let her go with difficulty, her hand trailing along Buffys arm and hand until the girl was out of reach. The washroom door closed. Joyces face collapsed and Marcel knelt by her, putting her arms around her.

Im sorry you had to hear that Joyce. But it was necessary for you to understand.

You knew! You FUCKING KNEW WHAT THE BASTARDS DID TO MY LITTLE GIRL! YOU ASSHOLE! How could you put her through that! Tears of rage ran down Joyces face and she pounded her fists on the psychiatrists shoulders and chest. Marcel winced.

I had a fairly good idea yes. Ipieced things together from the police and FBI reports, a friend of mine, a profiler with the FBI, helped. If you want I can show you a condensed version

Show me. Joyce eyes were stormy with anger.

He rose, walked to his desk, unlocked a drawer and took a sheaf of papers from it, handing them to Joyce.

You can take these with you, if you keep them from Buffy for now. And I want you to realize that these areheavily edited.

Joyce glared at him. Edited? How? Why?

No names of victims, or locations. And no precise descriptions of the things they did He swallowed heavily. Lets just say Ive seen a lot of evil things in my practice Joyce and this isreal bad.

Joyce grimly nodded. Would they havedone what Buffy said to Dawnie?

Yes. Oh God I wish I could say no. The psychiatrist rubbed his own face with his hands. Page nineteen.

Joyce flicked through the stack until she reached the page, came to the short summary of a case in Nevada. _Female, nine years old. Sexually abused and tortured for several days. Cause of death: bled out and cut about the neck. Traces of cannibalistic practices._

Joyce flipped through the rest of the pages, her face growing ever more pale and strained. How many? She finally whispered.

We think they worked their way west from Chicago. At least 16 deaths in California alone, 34 persons missing whom we presume to be their victims in California. At least 40 more in the rest of the country, but numbers are imprecise.

Oh my God

JoyceI dont say this lightlyBut if anyone was caught in that fire, and the fire department found no traces inside, even then Buffy did not kill people. She put down rabid animals. Most of the cases of Loudun, in modern society, are because of relatively mild actions. We have become less resistant to brutal treatment in the past century. But this caseI cant give you my analysis now Joyce. And I am by the way, having you make an appointment with me or a colleague, to talk about this. I am very sorry you had to go through this Joyce

I understand why you had to. Ifuck it. If Id been Buffy ID VE KILLED THE MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A BITCH MYSELF! She threw the file against the wall.

Buffy opened the door as her mothers scream reached its crescendo and she reared back, eyes wide. M-mom? Are you alright?

Joyce strode to Buffy, gathering her into a warm embrace. I love you honey. And youre very brave. But if you ever do anything like that again, I will spank you until your butt shines in the dark.

Buffy blinked at Marcel, who shrugged as if saying, Dont ask me.

M-mom?

Do you realize what those bastards could have done to you? If I find out you even talk to a jaywalker Im gonna tan your hide!

Buffy, still held firmly in her mothers arms began to sob and giggle at the same time. Oh mom

Im serious young lady! Youll not be able to sit for a week. Buffy snuggled into her mothers shoulder and Joyce led her to the couch after a minute or so.

Marcel sat opposite them again, having reclaimed the stack of papers from the floor. NowJoyce understands your reasons Buffy. JoyceI think you should explain to Buffy why you, and Hank, did what you did.

Joyce sighed and Buffy felt her stiffen again. Yes. Yes youre right. She straightened her shoulders and leaned back, closing her eyes. She kept her arm loosely around Buffy and took a deep breath.

We were visited by the police, child services, you name it. Buffywasnt talking to us. I cant blame her, we hadnt listened to her before, hadnt paid attention to anything but, well lets say Hank and I did not get along at all well.

She took another deep breath, her eyes still closed. At first I thought that she was just reacting to the troubles at home. I thought wed take her to see a psychiatrist, talk to her, explain why Hank and I were not getting along. ThenHank read her diary. He went ballistic. I got really worried. Id read about some of the cases this gang seems to have perpetrated. I knew about Loudun from earlier reading, I studied a bit more. I tried to get Hank to read about itHe wouldnt accept it. He said Id filled her mind with silly thoughts and that she had to accept that she was a normal girl with normal parents who were going through a divorce. I gathered up all I could and sent it to your office I got a negative reply.

Marcel nodded. One of my assistants vetted it. The case is highly atypical. Most Loudun sufferers are rather apathetic about their experiences, it is very rare for one to take action against their tormentors as Buffy did. So she called. Apparently she talked to your husband

Joyces eyes opened very wide. He never told me Buffy swallowed, feeling tears come to her eyes.

Im sorry to say he called me everything from a charlatan to a con artist, that his daughter was just having trouble adjusting to the reality of her parents breakup and, well lets just say my assistant was less than amused and advised that the case be refused.

Joyce closed her eyes again, her mouth tight with anger. She was silent for a bit By the time the refusal cameYou had run away. Child services were going to take you, they were going to put you into juvenile detention, they thought we couldnt control you. They were looking into taking Dawn as wellI panicked. I screwed up. I let Hank convince me that our best option was to send you to Overton. Child services and the court agreed. I was so tiredThe fights, the anger, the things Hank said

Joyces tears ran down her face. I gave in. I let you be taken. I could see the fear in your eyes, the disbelief when we had you taken there, the hateand when you came back I should have fought harder BuffyOh Buffy Im so sorry. Im sorry. Joyce collapsed into incoherence and this time it was Buffy who offered comfort.

Mom, mom, Its alright. Its alright. Mom I love you. You did what you could, please mom.

It took Joyce several minutes to regain some composure, enough to go on. Her voice was strained and teary. Every time I went to Overton, you were always sleeping, or drugged. They used so many drugsThey tied you down. I told HankHe said they had to do it, to make you face reality She sobbed again, shuddering violently. Im so sorry, Im so sorry.

Y-you came to visit me? Buffy looked at her mother in amazement. I thought I dreamt thatI thought

Twice a week. They wouldnt let me see you at firstAnd then you were always so heavily druggedOh Buffy Joyce put her hands on either side of her daughters face and her forehead against Buffys. You cried out and struggled andI let them, I left you there. I knew it was wrong Im so sorry. She gulped. I understandI understand what youre feelinghow you feltI know I screwed upMaybe one day

Buffy took her mother in her arms, holding her tight. Oh momIm so sorry. You did what you could. You couldnt let them take Dawnie. Shed have been destroyed. Please, mom, please stop crying She looked helplessly at the psychiatrist who rose and got two glasses of water, holding one out to each woman.

Drink, slowly. Take deep breaths. Both took the glasses and drank as instructed. It took a while for Joyces breathing and tears to get back under control. Buffy took her mothers hand.

Mom. It was that day a long time ago.

W-what?

The day I forgave you. It came when you told me you quit your job and were moving us to Sunnydale so I could go to school, live a normal life. When you used everything youve worked for since college to pay the costs of that gym when the insurance wouldnt cover it. Joyce looked up, eyes wide, mouth open as if to speak. Buffy put her fingers on her mothers mouth. Im a teen mom. Im nosy. Youleft the papers out on the desk in your study back in L.A.

She took a deep breath, looking into her mothers eyes. Mom, you gave up _everything_ for meyour savings, investments, your job, your lifeYou took Dawn and me to Sunnydale to give us the best possible life you could. And ImOh mom please forgive me Im so sorry She started crying again and Joyce hugged her close.

I love you Buffy. And theres nothing to forgive.

Marcel snorted. Joycegive your daughter credit for her intelligence. There _is_ something to forgive.

Buffy smiled a watery smile and nodded. Mom, please

Joyce let out her breath. Very well. I admit I was upset I had to quit my job to get you into a good school. The restthat is just money. The move, that was hard on Dawn. However its also had its definite upside. Youve been happier at the new school, since the divorce, you seem closer to your new friends, even after a few weeks, than you ever were to anyone but Celia. Dawn is very happy in Sunnydale now, certainly better than she was in LA, but that might just be because she cant hear Hank and me fighting anymore. And ermthere have been ermbeneficial side effects for me as well. She blushed, glancing at Marcel who seemed to be suppressing a grin.

Buffy felt no need to do so, smiling . Simon kissage side effects. Also Simon sleep over-y side effects.

Buffy! Joyce blushed more deeply at her daughters brashness and glanced at Marcel again, who now looked distinctly amused and was unable to suppress his grin this time.

Covering her embarrassment Joyce hugged her daughter. I forgive you. I love you. She held Buffy at arms length. And if I ever find out youre doing stuff like you did again, you will need pillows to sit on for a week!

Buffy smiled. K, mom, understood. And I forgive you and I love you.

Joyce hugged her again. Im going to freshen up a little, if you dont mind.

She rose and went to the small washroom. Buffy leaned back on the couch, sighing despondently. If she ever starts believing Im the Slayer my butt is soooo toast.

Marcel took a sip of his cold coffee and grimaced. She was serious? About the spanking? She doesnt seem the type to use punishments like that

She never threatens to spank unless she is serious. And she will act upon the threat, this I know from experience. She flushed a little and rolled her eyes. I cant even say it wasnt deserved.

Marcel grinned. Im not going to ask what you did.

Im not telling.

Well, at least now you have some physical advantages

Youve never seen my mom in full punishment mode. Im not even sure my Slayer strength would help.

Marcel grinned. Its good to know ones limitations. I assume you wish to freshen up after your mother? How do you feel now?

Better. This cleared the air. I never thought telling mom what it was like would be sowell liberating.

You never told anyone before, did you?

No. Whod have listened? Your removal of the supernatural angle really helped. She drained her glass of soda.

He bowed in his chair. Thank you. More coke?

Hmm, please. I need fluids. Havent cried this much inwell since Overton.

He poured a glass. Joyce came back in and Buffy went into the washroom to wash her face and repair her make up. Joyce sat and drank her cold tea.

Thank you. She looked at the dark, slightly bitter dregs left in her cup. Marcel took it from her and poured it into the sink in the kitchenette, pouring her a fresh cup of hot water and adding some loose tea.

Its my job. Some days its a better one than other days. Joyce?

Yes?

This was a very good day. Im impressed, very impressed with both of you. And I hope you will forgive my methods.

Thank you. Youre forgiven. I must admit Im surprised that you use the Dr. Phil Method of confrontational treatment however. She gave him a smirk and he groaned.

I never should have let Margaret talk me into doing that show...

So. Are we done for today?

We achieved what I wanted to achieve. And you must be worn out. So yes. You have other plans?

Just dinner at home. We may get Chinese if were home late. She rolled her eyes. And Simon has gone all builder and masculine and wants to make a treehouse for Dawn. So there will plenty of bruised thumbs to tend to.

Marcel grinned broadly. I almost feel tempted to come and see that.

Buffy came in and smiled. Shed restored some of her make up but the traces of her crying were still visible. Right. All presentable.

Then Id like to say that both of you are remarkable women. And I think you both realize that you are there for each other. And on that unusually happy note, well call it a day. He smiled broadly.

Ill just give you something to help you sleep if needed. Marcel rose and walked to a locked safe. I dislike the use of medication in my treatments, but in this case Ill make and exception. He sat at his desk, wrote to prescriptions and handed two boxes to Joyce. No more than one a day and no more than one week of use. Pill dependency is not the goal here.

Joyce smiled and took the packets. Understood. Cmon Buffy, time to get home.

BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS

Xander arrived at the Summers house after school, Willow in tow.

Ah, Xander, Willow. Just the people I was looking for.

Oh? Xander looked wary.

Oh yesplease follow me. He led them to the backyard where a large pile of lumber was lying beneath an oak.

I have liberated this wood from the skip at Hooghwater and I propose we use it to build an arborial residence for Aurora.

Errwhat? Xander looked a bit confused.

Willow giggled. Were gonna build a tree house for Dawn!

Indeed. He pointed at the toolbox at his feet. Wanna help? Xander and Willow grimaced at his failed attempt at a California accent. Simon shrugged and took a drawing from his back pocket. Now Im not proposing a Disney like Robinson construction. Something large enough for Dawn to seclude herself with one or two friends. He gestured at the pile of wood resting at the foot of the large oak. This looks like the most solid tree to me. Well use one or two uprights to support it so we dont put too much weight on the branches and we can use them for solid ladder supports as well.

Willow and Xander nodded. Xander, why dont you cut some of the diagonals and crossbeams well need, measure the width between the branches.

Xander grinned and took out a measuring tape. Willows face scrunched up in thought.

Diagonals. Triangles. Supports She gave Simon a look. Youre making Xander see the math and physics in the real world.

Yes. And were building Dawn a tree house.

Have you ever built one before?

Some shelters during military training nothing really solid. This has to be solid; we dont want Dawn falling through the floor with her friends after pigging out on Ben&Jerrys.

There was an angry squawk from a nearby bush. Willow giggled nervously and Simon grinned. Dawn, if you want to sneak up on people and listen to their conversations hot pink is not a good colour. And you need practice on the sneaking as well.

He turned towards the bush, arms crossed and Dawn sulkily and somewhat shamefacedly came out of it, followed by Janice who dragged her feet and looked embarrassed.

You said that on purpose. Dawn said it accusingly.

I did, it was a ruse.

It was mean! She glared at him and Willow stifled a giggle.

And listening in on our conversation wasnt?

Dawn flushed. Ok, so that was bad too. But I mean; the falling through the floor thing. Were not fat!

Simon laughed. No indeed, Id say you were of excellent weight for your height. Do you two want to help? Xander might need someone to hold the measuring tape

The two girls exchanged glances and then both walked over to Xander. A few minutes later the girls were agilely seated on the proper branches, dropping measuring tapes down to Xander, Simon was up on a ladder and Willow was handing up tools.

Joyce and Buffy arrived home quite late to the sounds of laughter coming from the back yard. Joyce drove the jeep up the drive way and Dawn bounced up to it. Hi mom! Hi Buff! Had a good trip?

Joyce got out of the car and smiled at her youngest, covered in bark marks, bits of leaf, wood splinters and sawdust. Very good. And how was your afternoon?

Way cool! Simons building me a tree house. Xander fell out of the tree. Twice. Willows got a splinter and being a baby about it and she fell out too. And Simons going to order Chinese so you have to say what you want like right now. Otherwise Xander says hell starve.

Buffy laughed and took Dawns hand. Lets go see this tree house of yours. And order Chinese before Xander eats his own leg.

Joyce looked with some amazement at the structure in the tree, it was far further advanced than she had thought and looked remarkably solid. Xander was leaning against the garage covered in the same mix of building debris as Dawn but seemed quite happy, sipping a soda. He winked at her and she ruffled his already unruly hair and as usual his eyes widened a bit. He straightened but did not seem to mind her caress. *The boy is starved for affection. Is there any child in this town that had a normal childhood?* Joyce sighed as she looked at the scene before her, gave Xander a quick shoulder hug and went to deal with the medical drama.

Willow was looking woeful, as only she could and whimpered as Simon reached for her hand, a set of tweezers in the other and Willow backed away into the tree, hand behind her back. No! Itll hurt.

Simon smiled encouragingly. Willow, if we get it out now there will be les swelling and chance of infection

No, please? Willows lower lip trembled.

Joyce smiled and intervened. Come on dear, well go soak it in washing soda and then Ill get it out. Youll hardly feel a thing. Dont worry.

Willow gave her a hopeful look. Promise?

Promise. She held out her hand for Simons tweezers and he gave them up with a smile. She kissed him lightly on the lips and there was a general groan from the older teens. She took Willow into the kitchen, prepared a soda wash bath with hot water and soaked Willows index finger in it.

SoWant to tell me why you didnt want this removed?

Willow blushed. I got a splinter when I was five when Xander and I were playing in the yard, from the fence. And I went to my mom to get it taken out, cause it hurt. Mommoms really bad at it, it hurt a lot.

I see. Well, thats understandable enough. But I really cant imagine Simon being bad at it

Willow sighed. I know. I just, panicked. And Xander talking about amputation did not help.

Joyce smiled, rolling her eyes. There was a thump and an ouch from outside and then the sound of Dawns laughter and Buffys complaints that it wasnt funny. That sounded like Buffy landing. Did Dawn or Janice fall out?

No, Simons really careful, he made sure they always held onto the branches or stood on the floor.

Why am I not surprised? Shall we try this?

Willow nodded, biting her lower lip. Joyce gently tweezered the splinter out and Willow looked on in amazement. I hardly felt that!

Joyce smiled. Lolly and I got splinters all the time. You learn to deal with them.

Willow smiled at her radiantly. Thank you! She gave Joyce a quick hug and ran outside. See Xand! No amputation! She waved her finger at the boy.

Joyce laughed and shook her head. Simon stepped into the kitchen. Ive finished inventorying the food wishes except for yours. He handed her a bit of paper with the choices in builders pencil and Joyce noted that there were several of her favourites on it.

Thatll be fine.

Ill call the Chinese now.

Okay. Im just going to go upstairs and take out my contacts. My eyes got tired with driving. She noted him swallow. For some strange reason the moment she went from Joyce without to Joyce with glasses he seemed to lose his self control. She kissed him again and walked upstairs. She rather relished that she could reduce him to a horny puddle when she looked at him over her glasses. She really had to dress like a librarian and see how hed react

Dinner was eaten in the garden and Joyce allowed herself to be cornered by Simon behind the oak tree, out of sight of the children. The eye rolling and groans from Buffy, Willow and Xander told her that they very well knew what their elders would be doing.

They emerged from behind the tree, slightly mussed, after a few minutes. Simon climbed up the ladder to the treehouse to inventory what was to be done the next day and Xander followed him. The girls helped Joyce carry the dishes into the kitchen, storing the leftovers.

I think the roof will be finished tomorrow, and then we can start varnishing the outside and lay the electricity, put in the door and windows, make it a little home.

Luxury tree accommodation. Xander grinned.

It has to feel like a real home to Dawn, or part of her home. I cant imagine letting her use it otherwise, considering this is Sunnydale.

Oh, yes. Yeah. I see your point. He ran a hand over an upright. You gonna use magic on it? Are there things like protection spells? He spoke softly, even though Joyce was on the other end of the yard, talking to Willow about planting the garden.

Yes. Ive put some on already.

Xander grinned broadly. And you didnt show Wills? Heh, shes going to be very disappointed.

Xander Simon looked at the boy whose smile lessened at the serious tone in the older mans voice.

Yeah?

Those bruises on your armsYou didnt get them from falling out of the tree. And theyre too fresh to be from the Mantis lady

Im accident prone.

You fall into your father a lot? Or your mother?

Xander gasped, sucking in his breath, eyes going wide. W-what?

I know the signs Xander. Dont lie to me.

Xander sank down onto the floor, suddenly boneless. And what are you going to do about it?

Nothing if you dont want me to. Id _like_ to report it to the police, the appropriate authorities. And I want to check you over, maybe take a few x-rays.

Xander huddled down; Simon knelt next to him, putting his arms around him. Why are you being so damned nice? Why the fuck do you care?

Simon gently firmed the one armed hug. Language Xander, Joyce doesnt like swearing. As for whyXander, do you think that child abuse only happens in Sunnydale, in the Harris household? Do you think youre the first? His voice broke on the last word.

Xander blinked at the older man. ManI never figured

Most people dont. They see money and the faade it can buy and think there must be happiness behind it.

So your dad beat you?

No. He used words. The older mans mouth twisted and his eyes grew dark with memories.

Xander shuddered Mine loves to talk me down too. Momsthe same. He doesnt hit me all that often anymore really, now Im bigger.

Look on the bright side Xander. At least your father cares enough to beat you himself. Mine had people to do it for him. Simons voice was soft and humorous, but Xander could feel the pain that lay underneath it. But I want you to know, to understand, I know where youre coming from, and Im here when you need me. And Im very sure Joyce feels the same way. Ok?

Xander closed his eyes, tears leaking from between the lids and nodded. Yeah. Thanks.

Simon got out his handkerchief and handed it to Xander to dry his tears and blow his nose. I gotta get down; were going to the Bronze.

Have fun.

Xander nodded, his normal smile back on his face. There will be pretty girls and dancing and hopefully a band that does not suck.

Simon smiled. The essence of young male happiness. Come on, lets get down.

The elder teens went off to the Bronze and Janice would stay over with Dawn. Joyce saw to it they were at least in bed on time, even though she doubted that they would actually sleep. She stayed up, cuddling and reading with Simon until Buffy and Willow came home. The girls went upstairs and Joyce knocked on the door some time later, to see both of them lying in bed, waiting to be tucked in. Most nights she knew Buffy merely tolerated the tucking in so Willow would not feel embarrassed, but tonight her oldest daughter seemed as eager as the petite redhead. As she bent over her daughter Buffy gave her a tight hug.

I love you mom.

I love you too Buffy.

Buffy whispered in her ear, so softly Willow could not hear. Could you hug Wills too, shes looking really sad.

Joyce grinned and whispered back. Sure love. Sleep well.

Kneeling by Willow she gave the girl a good tight hug, tucked her in well, put her tatty bear under her chin and gave her a motherly kiss on her forehead. Willows eyes, slightly teary when Joyce had first approached her were wide and her smile was luminous. Goodnight Willow dear. Sleep well, both of you.

She turned of the lights and went to her own bed, crawling up to Simon who was lying in bed with his arms behind his head. Hello love. How are the children?

She sighed. I feel sorry for Xander. From the things I hear he doesnt have much of a family life. I wish I had a spare room, I think he feels left out with Willow staying over.

We could clear out the basement, paint it up. Put up some walls around the boiler

I cant afford that Simon Joyce sighed, torn.

I can. And it wouldnt be all that expensive. But first we need to know how Buffy and Dawn feel about it.

True. I think Dawn would love it. Shes crushing bad.

Simon smiled. Xander knows. Hes being very gentle.

Ill talk to them tomorrow. So what did you talk about in the tree? I could see Xanderd been crying.

The joys of having fathers. His voice was strained.

Joyce sat up, looking at his face. Simonis Xander being abused?

Yes. Emotional and physical abuse

She touched his face with her hands and then drew it down to her shoulder, laying his head upon her breast. And you could relate far too well

Joyce His voice was pained and desperate, she could hear the hope that shed drop it, and she knew that after the emotionally exhausting day she wasnt up for it either.

We wont discuss it tonight. Later. But we will discuss it.

Thank youFor understanding.

I just think your father is lucky hes dead. Otherwise Id go give him a piece of my mind.

Simon smiled at her wrathful expression. I would have loved to have seen that.

Think you can sleep?

Ive slept better in the past few days than I have in yearsI think it wont be a problem. I hope it wont be one at any rate. He sighed. And from Monday Ill be back at work in New York He hugged her tight and nuzzled her neck.

She tightened her own hold. Ill miss you. She felt him smile. And if you say Ill miss you more, you can sleep on the couch.

He laughed. God, I love you.

I love you too. She snuggled into him and he drew the duvet over them.

This, as the children would say, is of the good.

She thumped his chest lightly. Simon

I know, I know. Im too old to carry of the youthful vocabulary.

I dont think you ever were young enough. She yawned. This was a long day.

Hmmm. Sleep well love.

Good night sweetheart.


	10. Chapter 10

**Id like to thank everybody for reviewing and reading. I also need to remember to put more things to the voteit seems to draw reviews. Halloween suggestions anyone? And No JEDI among he main cast! I dont think I can top Scribblers magnificent works Jedi_ Harris_ and _The Terran Jedi_. And yes, this is a serious question. **

**I assume youll tell me when I go all Gary Stu? I try to avoid it and heaven knows Simon has more issues than National Geographic, but a little warning if I drift off course. **

**Hank Summers will be appearing officially in this story for the first time in _Nightmares_ or at least my version of it. So far the vote is Three for hard Hank, four for soft Hank, six for medium Hank and one undecided, depends on the needs of my story. Ill leave the vote open for a while yet. (And update this occasionally.) **

_Chapter 11: Breakfasts and Basements_

Breakfast was eaten earlier than usual that Saturday and with the exceptional attendance of Xander who had shown up looking harrowed. Joyce went off to tend the gallery and the teens and Simon set about finishing the tree house. The inside was going to be purple and pink, much to the amusement of Simon.

The building activities were interrupted by the arrival of Miller, carrying a briefcase. The butler looked up at his employer with a certain amount of amused surprise. Good morning Dr Meier. Pink is an excellent colour for you, sir.

Simon put down his brush and rubbed a cloth over his face and hands, removing some of the stains left by his paintwork. Good morning Miller. Is there a reason you are here during my holiday?

Yes sir. It regards your return to work.

Simon muttered a phrase under his breath and walked into the house, sitting on a stool in the kitchen, gesturing for Miller to do the same.

Coffee? Tea? Scone? The butler smiled. No thank you sir, this will not take long.

Well, what do the directors want?

Nothing sir. He opened the briefcase, removing a sheet of paper. This is the sketch outline for the new administration model sir.

Simon sighed and accepted the paper, glancing at it. Then his eyes widened. Were moving juniors to Sunnydale? And Geraldine Yancey? Opening an executive support office?

Yes sir, we are using one of the empty office buildings on Mainstreet, the Architectural Trust has owned it for several decades but has been unable to rent it out for a number of years. It will be an excellent use of the space, as well as bringing much needed jobs into the local economy. And as you know Mrs. Devereaux has stated her desire to retire next year and this will allow you to work in a new principal secretary. And of course spare you the commute to LA. Or living in New York.

MillerThank you.

Youre welcome sir.

Miller, have you ever constructed a tree house?

Yes sir, I have some experience along those lines. The twinkle in the mans eyes was unmistakable.

Want to help?

Actually sir, I need to go and oversee thecleaningof the basement at Hooghwater. He shrugged apologetically. It seemed wise to do so without construction workers around.

Simon grimaced. Found anything about that?

Your father used it, as you surmised, for the purpose you thought. The costs were very well disguised in the books.

Nothinguntoward?

The corners of Millers mouth quirked. No corpses sir, merely a lot ofinteresting equipment. Most of the larger pieces installed by Gabriel Meier.

Simon sighed. Ah wellThank God for small mercies.

Yes sir. Will you be moving into the manor sir?

I dont think so Miller. I rather like this place. Have you made enquiries about the ownership of the surrounding properties?

Yes sir, the report will be on your desk Monday. Sir

Yes?

I have taken the liberty to acquire you the services of a cleaning lady for the apartment.

Simon grinned. Thanks Miller. He rose. Anything else?

No sir. He looked out of the window and sighed. There was a crash and a high pitched yelp of OUCH! Xander! Except that you will need your case sir, Mr. Harris just jumped out of the tree on Miss Rosenbergs foot.

Simon laughed, grabbing his bag. The pitter patter of little feet old friend

I was sort of hoping to work up to this age by slower increments sir. The butler kept a straight face but his eyes twinkled with amusement. His employer squeezed his shoulder and nodded in thanks, then went outside to see if anyone was injured.

Joyce returned to see a table made of scrap wood and MDF outside, with her lounge chairs around it, under a tree house lit with Christmas lights and had to giggle. A trench had been dug and closed in again from the garage to the tree and a heavy duty electric cable ran up the tree. Laughter and light flooded out from the open kitchen door. She stepped up to it, peering in at the scene before her. Simon was making pizza, keeping an eye on Willow, Buffy, Dawn and Janice who were attempting to bake a cake. The cherry and apple filling seemed to be causing trouble, since quite a lot of it was around the girls mouths, as was a good amount of the chocolate icing. And the amount of dough seemed to her to be inadequate to cover the cake tin. She snorted with laughter and walked up to work surface where Simon was putting together the pizza topping.

Buffy groaned. Oh great. Parent smoochie alert. Joyce laughed and merely kissed Simons cheek.

I see your baking has much improved. Theres actually something left to go into the oven. She smiled fondly at the foursome. Simon lightly tapped Xanders hand as he reached for a slice of Salami. Xander too, bore traces of the unfinished pie. Simon exchanged a look with Joyce and they burst out laughing.

The teens looked at their crumb and filling spattered faces and in Xanders case the traces of Salami and cheese as well, and had the grace to look sheepish. Joyce took of her jacket, put on an apron and turned to try and salvage some of the cake for desert.

They ate a home made pizza dinner, with salad on the side, under the light of Christmas lights hanging from the tree house and had coffee, juice soda and small apple cherry tarts afterwards.

The elder teens were going to the Bronze and Janice managed to beg another night of sleepover from her mother, which was granted only after Joyce got on the phone with her and assured her it was no problem.

Joyce then took her daughter aside while Simon and Janice talked about carpeting the tree house. Janice favoured electric pink.

Dawn How do you feel about Willow staying over so often?

Its way cool. She helps with my homework and she plays chess much better than Buff. And shes nice. Dawn grinned. She doesnt want to wake up in the mornings either. Joyce ruffled her youngest hair. And this way shes not so lonely, cause her parents are gone all the time. It sucks to be lonely.

Dawn, language.

Sorry mom. But its true. Dawn quickly hugged her mother. Id hate for you to be gone as often as Willows parents. Itd be awful.

Very awful. I dont know how her parents can stand being away from her so long. Its good of you to think of that. Dawnhow would you feel if Xander stayed over more often too?

Is this because his parents are nasty?

Joyce blinked. How do you know?

I heard him talking to Willow, she saw a bruiseDoes his dad beat him?

Yes Dawnwere you eaves dropping?

No, I swear. I just was sitting on the other side of the floor; they were working on the roof. Simon wanted the bottom varnished too. Can you imagine? I got varnish in my hair even! She drew a lock of her hair in front of her and scowled at it. Joyce suppressed a giggle at her daughters cross eyed look at her hair. Do we have to cut it off? Dawns voice sounded distressed, her long hair was one of her vanities.

I dont think so dear. We can get that out with some turpentine or white spirits. So, do you mind?

Dawn blushed, trying to look unconcerned. No, Xanders nice. I dont mind. It would be like having a big brother. So where would he be staying?

Joyce smiled at her daughters ingeniousness. Wed clear out the loft over the garage or part of the basement.

Oh. Dawn looked just a smidgen disappointed. Joyce was certain she had rather hoped her crush would be sleeping on her floor. She reached out and took the lock of varnished hair.

Does Janice have paint in her hair as well?

Think so. Mom?

Joyce was thinking of where shed put the white spirits and if she still had enough to clean her daughter and her friend, or if she needed something else. Oh, and she needed conditioner, white spirits was unkind to hair. Yes honey?

Dawns voice was tiny. Simons leaving tomorrow isnt he?

Joyces happiness dwindled away. Shed known that he would be leaving. That the two weeks were up and that he would fly back to New York, his office, his work, his life, in the morning. She realized that her finances would take a hit; hed been doing the groceries. She could afford having Willow over so often, and Xander, but it would pinch. But what she would miss most was his easy presence, the laughs, the hugs, the kisses. She would have to do with phone conversations and an occasional weekend. There would be no more lunches, no more stolen moments, and no more smouldering looks when she donned her specsglasses. She shook herself.

I think he is. He only had two weeks.

When will he be back?

I dont know Dawnie. It may be a while.

Thought so. She sighed.

Joyce put an arm around the girls shoulders.

Well get Janice, then well get the paint out of your hair, then you can take showers and get the smell of the spirits out. Come on.

They went outside and collected Janice. Joyce took them to the bathroom and cleaned their hair, using most of her bottle of turpentine that remained from painting the house. Both girls got a bit sick from the smell and the fumes and needed to be revived with a scoop of ice from one of the tubs of Ben&Jerrys Simon had bought in the morning. She had one herself too. After all she had removed the paint and therefore had a right to feel a bit sick as well. She sent the girls to bed, with a firm message she would be up later to check if they were indeed sleeping. She went down stairs where Simon was reading a book on New York history, murmuring things like Codswallop and Idiocy.

Something you disagree with in there Simon? She gave him a fond look.

Apparently my great-grand Uncle Gabriel was a paragon of virtue whose donations to New York Charities made him a much loved figure in social circles.

I see. And how was he in real life?

Well, if the charity was young, willing pretty and ermmmobedientHe was probably quite generous.

Joyce grinned. Had someone do some editing?

No, Gabriel just went for lower class partners. And he was quite discreet. Its the ones who had a dozen affairs in high life who really get the attention in this book. And of course Gabriel moved to California where morals weredifferent. He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Joyce flicked his ear with her finger, softly. Twit. She leaned against him and sighed contently if a bit sadly as his arm circled her . Ill miss this. Sowhat time do you have to leave tomorrow?

I dont.

She turned around. But I thought you only had a two week vacation?

My staff has been working very hard. He looked a bit guilty. Theyve set up an executive branch office here in Sunnydale. I can work from there, most of the time.

Joyce felt the sad feeling that had been settling over her the past few hours lift. Soyoure not leaving?

No, well, I do have to go to the office here. He suddenly looked uncertain. Unless you want me to leave? I can

Joyce shut him up with a kiss. Thats the best news Ive had all week. And Ive had some good news this week.

Hmmm. Glad you approve.

Very much. Why dont you set the alarm? Simon grinned and performed the requested action.

Joyce climbed onto his lap as soon as he was done and wrestled with him on the couch until ten minutes before Buffy and Willow came home, splashing some water on her face and straightening her clothes before taking her place against him in matronly prim fashion. The girls arrived a few minutes late, both looking a bit down.

Sorry were late mom, we walked Xander home.

Joyce looked up over her glasses again. I see. Id like to talk to you about that.

Mom Buffy whined. Were only a few minutes late and Xander

Sit down, both of you. Joyce gestured at the couch opposite. Simon put down his novel and smiled encouragingly. He took Joyces hand and squeezed it lightly.

I want to talk to you about Xander.

Willow and Buffy looked at each other. What about Xander? Buffy asked.

About the way his parents treat him. Im certain you both know about it.

The two girls gawped at the adults. W-what?

Simon sat forward. I know the effects of abuse when I see them Buffy. Ive had far too much experience with it.

Joyce nodded. Xander apparently isnt ready yet to report this, but he needs a safe place to stay. Dawn is willing to put up with him in her bedroom. Amusement was clear in her voice.

Simon winked at Buffy and Willow and Joyce continued speaking. But Iwe think a bed in the basement under or in the garage loft might be better, on such nights as he shouldnt be with his parents. She gave Buffy a look. As I said Dawn is in agreementBuffy, do you mind? And do you mind Willow, considering how often you stay here?

Buffy was off the couch with her arms around her mother in seconds. Mom, you are the bestest!

Willow was trying to contain her tears and failing badly. Joyce gently prised Buffys arms away and moved over to the sobbing redhead. There, there Willow. Ive got you. Ive got you.

Buffy looked at her mother comforting her best friend and sighed, speaking softly. I never realized how lucky Ive been to have mom and Dawn.

Simon smiled a bit sadly. Many people do not realize how lucky they are with the family they have. Why dont we go outside and give them some privacy.

Buffy nodded and followed him, stopping in the kitchen, picking up the box of tissues, taking it back into the living room and putting it next to Joyce, who smiled gratefully. Then she joined Simon in the porch swing and he set it in motion with a kick.

So hows the slaying business? Would you mind telling me whats been happening here since you moved? Or at least the beginning of it?

Buffy grimaced. Ugh. Do I have to?

Simon shrugged. Ive found talking about it helps. Miller is a good listener.

I thought you didnt fight demons!

No, I said I tried to avoid it. Theres a difference. He grinned at her.

Why you sneaky Suddenly she looked worried. But you cant. I mean, youre not a Slayer and some demons are really strong. Stronger than vamps.

They are the ones I especially try to avoid. He said it dryly and Buffy laughed.

So you been doing it long?

The family has been involved for a very long time. Myself, I got involved when I was fifteen.

WowSo are you like, destined or Chosen?

No, volunteers. Weve even aided a Slayer or two. He put a hand to her face. So dont hesitate to ask.

Buffy smiled. Youre a touch old to be a Slayerette

Simon laughed. Well, I cant say that I like the name anyway. Now tell me, what has been happening since you moved here?

Buffy shrugged and started telling her tale.

Joyce managed to calm Willow down enough to talk after a few minutes. She reached for a tissue on occasion, handing it to the girl and a pile of them ended up in the waste paper basket. Then she sat for a while, her arm around the slender shoulders and rubbed Willows arm.

So Want to tell me why that just happened?

No-ones ever c-cared about Xander. His parentsI dont think they even like him Willow raised her tear stained and blotched face to that of Joyce. I went to the school nurse a few years ago, to try andshe wouldnt listen.

Joyce hugged the girl. That was a very brave thing for you to do Willow, and the right thing too. Dont blame yourself that a so called responsible adult dropped the ball.

I should have d-done more. I should have Willows incipient babble was stopped by Joyces gentle finger on her lips.

No Willow. This is not your fault. Its Xanders parents fault, and all the teachers and nurses who ignored it. You tried Willow. You did your best, the best a girl your age can be expected to do.

I should

No Willow. You did. You did good. Other people should have done more. And now Simon and I are on the case She gave the red head a determined look. Well take care of it. Well take care of both of you.

Willow started sniffling again and Joyce held her close. Willow, exhausted by her emotions and comforted by the presence of Joyce fell asleep, a weary happy smile on her face.

Buffy and Simon came back in after half an hour, to see Willow snuggled into Joyce, peacefully sleeping.

Buffy had to blink tears away at the sight. Joyce smiled at her, then down at the rumpled red hair under her chin.

I hate to wake her upbut I dont think I can carry her upstairs.

Simon walked over to the couch and deftly lifted the redhead after gently disentangling her arms from around Joyce. Once he had her firmly in his arms she immediately snuggled into him. He carried her upstairs and laid her on the camp bed in Buffys room, caressed her hair and then left. Buffy and Joyce undressed her, putting one of Joyces nightshirts instead of her PJs on her and Joyce tucked her in, the tattered teddy bear under her chin and the blankets over both. Buffy looked at her friend with a sad yet satisfied look on her face.

Thanks mom.

My pleasure love. Now you get ready for bed too. Teens need lots of sleep.

Buffy rolled her eyes and Joyce grinned and left. Yes mom. Buffy undressed quickly then lay down to sleep. After a few minutes she got up and went downstairs in her robe.

Mom?

Joyce looked up from her reading in some surprise. Yes dear?

Buffy gave Simon a glance and blushed little. Mom would you, umm

Joyces face lit up in amusement and understanding and she rose immediately from her comfortable position against Simon. Of course dear, come on.

She followed her daughter upstairs and Buffy lay down, Joyce sat on the bed and tucked her in, then kissed her. Good night Buffy.

Sorry mom, its just

BuffyNo mother minds. Its nice to be needed on occasion. She sighed. Im just glad you still want this after

Buffy rose up and hugged her mother. Always mom. Always.

Buffy! I just tucked you in. Joyce whispered mock sternly and Buffy stifled a giggle.

I love you mom.

Joyce tucked her daughter in again and kissed her forehead. I love you too, Buffy. Now sleep.

She went to check on Dawn and Janice, covering both girls who seemingly had fallen asleep talking, and walked downstairs.

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The next morning Xander arrived early enough for breakfast to find Simon and Joyce clearing out the basement. Good morning Xander, mind giving us a hand? We need to make some room.

Xander nodded. Sure Ms Summers. Good morning. Buffy and Will not up yet?

No, and Dawn and Janice are still asleep as well. She spoke indulgently. Hunger will wake them.

So, no tree house today? And I figured youd be packing? Xander addressed the question to Simon while he lugged a box upstairs. Whats in here? Lead?

Joyce shrugged. Most of this stuff was left by the previous owners, I havent had a chance yet to sort through it or throw it out or hold a yard sale. Its sad really the family that lived here was attacked by rabid dogs while out picnicking, and the nearest relatives just sold the place with almost everything in it. She frowned a bit and then shook her head.

Xander nodded sagely. Yeah, those dogs are a real problem around here. He took the box upstairs and put it on the porch with a pile of others, then went back down. So, what are you clearing the basement for?

A guest room, possibly more than one, maybe a home office. The space is badly used.

Xander looked at the clerestory windows at the back and sides of the basement that let in good daylight and nodded. Yeah. That would work. UmmmIts justWillows really not fond of enclosed spaces though. This might be a bit tooummm

Dont worry about Willow, shes fine with Buffy. This ones going to be yours. After we clean it of course. Joyce gave him a warm smile.

Xander dropped the box hed lifted and looked open mouthed at the adults who calmly continued packing loose junk into boxes and crates. F-for me?

Well, yes. I know that a basement is not ideal Xander, but Im not putting you on Dawns floor.

Xander looked between them wide eyed. Seriously?

Xander, we trust you, but people _would_ talk if we put you on Dawns floor. She winked and Xander grinned.

Dont worry, I know that Pat several houses over has made a very nice apartment in her basement. Itll be quite comfortable. Joyce said it straight faced and Xander could not help but grin again.

Thanks. He stood looking shyly at his feet and Joyce dropped something in the box she was loading before walking over and giving him a warm hug, which he gladly returned. Youre welcome dear. Now start lugging. If we do this in the morning the varnish and paint will be dry enough for you to work on the tree house in the afternoon.

Xander nodded, his smiled wide enough to crack his face and carried the box hed dropped upstairs, then went down for more. After a quarter of an hour Joyce went up to start squeezing juice and to turn on the oven for the baked goods and buns. Simon and Xander kept carrying boxes. Simon addressed Joyce as he wiped his grubby hands.

I think the previous owners had the same sort of idea about the basement, Joyce. Theres breezeblocks, tiles, grout, MDF, drywall, and other DIY stuff down there in abundance. As well as about a truck full of old aluminum siding and several bushels of old wooden planks and siding. At least youll have something to stoke that hearth of yours with.

Silly. Aluminum wont burn. She flicked his ear and he gave forth a long suffering sigh. Willow walked into the kitchen, followed by Buffy. They took in the mess on the porch and the open basement door.

Buffy looked at Xander who grinned broadly and Willow went over to hug him and he grabbed her in a bear hug. Mornin Will.

Morning Xand.

This is of the good. Buffy said with obvious satisfaction as she drank her orange juice and looked at the pile of stuff on the porch and the heap of junk at the foot of the stairs.

Yeah.

The upbeat mood of the teens was spoiled when Dawn came in with a woebegone expression on her face, settling on her stool after uttering some subdued good mornings. She gazed at Simon mournfully. Janice joined her, a thoughtful expression on her face. Joyce could see that her youngest had been crying and moved over to Simon, putting her arms around his waist. Now would be good. He smiled at her.

Is anyone interested in visiting my new branch office in Sunnydale?

Buffy exchanged glances with Willow and Xander. Dawn just looked more sad. Its where Ill be working from come Monday.

Willow squeaked, hopping on her stool in excitement. Youre not leaving!

Joyce laughed. Well, he will need to go to the office.

Dawn had slid of her stool and threw her arms around her mother and Simon. Youre staying! Youre staying! Simon whuffed as the breath was pushed out of him by the girls enthusiastic dive into his stomach.

Joyce laughed and helped Simon to gently disentangle Dawns arms. Yes Dawn, he is. Now let him breathe.

Simon looked at her gratefully. Joyce whispered something in his ears that made him both blush and beam a huge smile at her. Buffy was the only one to hear the whisper and blinked in surprise. *The dangers of fatherhood? What the?*

Dawn beamed from ear to ear. So you want to go there now?

Simon pursed his lips. Actually it might be better to do it tomorrow; we can work on clearing the basement this morning and the tree house this afternoon. Therell be staff on hand to log you in tomorrow.

Dawn blinked at him owlishly. Log us in?

Get you security clearance and entry passes. He shrugged. Standard operating procedure.

Cool. Dawn grinned.

Now I think we should have some breakfast and then get to work on the basement

Dawn pouted. No park?

Simon looked at Joyce over his shoulder. Joyce who gave him an evil grin and whispered something in his ear which made his lips quirk though he shot her a reproving glance. Buffy heard the words though. *Problems of fatherhood Ok mom, weirding me out here*

Simon sighed. Joyce laughed. Dawn, Ill call Janices mom and ask her to mind and then Ill take you and Janice to the park and get you later in the afternoon to help with the tree house. You all willing to help clear out the basement? She looked her inquiry at the older teens who nodded. Then lets have breakfast.

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Joyce drove Buffy, Dawn, Willow and Xander to the address Simon had given her the next afternoon. It turned out to be a stately early twentieth century building, a one time lawyers and doctors office that had been abandoned for some time, like so many in Sunnydale. There was new glass in the windows, the place was newly painted, the graffiti had been sandblasted of the walls and the roof was retiled. A discreet brass plate by the door merely stated that it was the Sunnydale branch of MIC. The large varnished door was closed and a bell pull, a speaker, an alphabet-numerical keyboard and a cardswipe were next to it. Joyce pulled the bell cord and an old fashioned clang resounded.

Xander grinned. Now the door is opened by Lurch.

The door opened on the last word and Miller stood there, dressed in a dark blue suit, towering over the callers. Indeed Mr. Harris? Xander grinned uncertainly.

Good afternoon Ms Summers, ladies, Mr. Harris. Please come in. He stepped back, allowing the group to enter. The hall was marble tiled and paneled in old oak. A large reception desk stood to the side and directly opposite the entrance was an old fashioned gated elevator. A receptionist smiled at them and a very large security guard mustered them carefully.

Good afternoon, Im Neave Cameron. Welcome to MIC. The receptionist rose, her red curls framing her lightly freckled face. Ill just need to take your picture and then I can make your security cards and assign each of you a code.

She took a digital camera and took pictures of all of them, plugged in the camera and typed quickly. I already have your particulars. Itll be just a minute. You understand these are just temporary cards, the permanent ones will be ready in a few days.

Willow looked at the technical equipment longingly and Neave smiled. Dr Meier said you would be interested, Miss Rosenberg. You may come closer if you wish. Willow managed to contain her squeal and almost skipped to Neave. The two redheads fell into an animated discussion as the new smelling computer and other machinery hummed softly.

Joyce stared at the animation on Willows face with amazement and enjoyment. She waited until she was handed a plasticized card with a picture of her face on it, looking startled as she always did in such pictures. Her name was on it and there were five small golden stars on the card below her portrait. A quick glance at the others showed the same. She was happy to note Buffys expression was similar to her own. Apparently some things were hereditary.

Miller gestured towards the elevator and the security person stepped aside, opening the gate, the lift behind was obviously restored. Willow looked around a bit wild eyed as she saw the small space and Joyce held her back, remembering Xanders words the day before. Is there a staircase we can take Miller?

The staircase is to the side, through the office. I will take you. Dr Meiers office is on the third floor. He gestured at the elevator buttons and led Joyce and Willow away.

Willow smiled wanly at Joyce. Sorry. I just really dont like small spaces.

No problem Willow. Exercise will do me good. She snorted genteelly. Especially since my beloved sister tells me I need to move my legs to get thinner thighs.

Willow grinned. You look good, dont worry.

Miller had led them to the stairs, which lay through a door behind the entry desk, an office space where several young men and women were working behind computers and desks. Several of them stared quite openly at Joyce and Willow and Joyce could see that it made the girl uncomfortable. She gave her a quick shoulder hug and they entered the stairwell, climbing smoothly until they reached the third floor. A security guard at the top of the stairwell smiled as they exited, showing their cards. Buffy, Dawn and Xander were already on the landing. A double green baize door faced the elevator and two single green doors were at either end of the landing. The security guard ran his card through the cardswipe and then typed in a number. Miller smiled at Joyce. Once you have the permanent cards youll be able to get in here without Sams help, Ms. Summers.

The large guard grinned and opened the door. My pleasure Mr. Miller, my pleasure. He stood aside to let them pass and they filed into an office. A woman of about Joyces age who was what Lolly would describe as comfortably padded looked up over her monitor and rose. Miller closed the door behind him and nodded at her. Mrs. Yancey, this is Ms. Summers, her daughters Miss Buffy and Miss Dawn, Miss Willow Rosenberg and Mr. Xander Harris.

Mrs. Yancey rose, approaching the group, extending her hand and shaking all of theirs. Geraldine Yancey, Dr Meiers Sunnydale secretary. Very pleased to meet you.

Joyce smiled. Likewise. She glanced at the single baize door and nodded at it. Simons through there?

Yes Ms Summers.

Joyce. She said it quite firmly. Ill never get Miller to say it, but I do have my limits. Mrs. Yancey smiled. Gerry, then please Joyce. Want to go through?

Please. Gerry walked to her desk and picked up her phone. Dr Meier, Ms Summers and the rest of the family are here.

Buffy heard a soft laugh from the other side, but not through the door. Send them through, thanks Gerry.

Gerry opened the first and second door of the sound sluice and waved them through, closing the doors again as she left. Joyces first impression was that the office was an old fashioned lawyers or doctors office, with paintings on the walls and bookcases with law books. The walls were paneled and the floor covered in a warm green carpet. A leather-topped desk stood in it, and several comfortable leather chairs as well as a more modern desk with a top of the line computer and laptop. She could hear Willows excited eep from behind her at the sight. Simon rolled back his chair and rose, spreading his arms.

Welcome to my office.

Joyce looked at him, raising an amused eyebrow. Let me guess, someone else did the decorating here.

Simon grinned. Yes, except for the etchings and the photographs. They did however; manage to reflect my old fashioned taste. Yes, you may play with the laptop Willow. Willow produced a real squeal this time and Simon laughed. As a matter of fact theres a mail in the box you might want to answer after playing and working with it a bit. I barely know how to turn the thing on, and they ask me for my considered opinion He rolled his eyes, kissed Joyce on the cheeks and grinned at Xander and Buffy. Dawn walked to the desk chair and gave it a push. It rolled smoothly and swiveled at her touch.

Simon took Joyces hand and grinned. No more than five revolutions Dawn.

Dawn grinned back, sat in the soft leather chair and twirled. Joyce groaned. Dawn! Remember the Teacups! Buffy laughed and walked over, stopping the spin.

Dawn looked rebellious. Hey! I was having fun there!

Buffy grinned down at her sister. Better do as mom says, O hurler from the Teacups. This carpeting is way too nice for you to puke all over it.

Dawn stuck out her tongue.

Xander smiled and walked around the room, noting pictures and etchings as he went. Reproductions of famous moments in American history, a picture of Simon in military uniform, standing with three older gentlemen in front of a hospital tenta picture on the wall of a much younger Simon and one of the older men, a stocky balding man with a distinguished face, sitting on a bench in front of what he thought was liberty Hall He went, trailing his fingers over fine leather surfaces and shining wood. One of the bookcases moved, revealing a bathroom. Woah. Cool.

Its just a bathroom. Simon shrugged

Behind a secret door! Hey Wills, come check out the secret door!

Willow was tapping away at the keyboard and hummed softly to herself. Moment Xand! Which mail is it? Her voice sang out happily.

The one from developmentapple.

Willow nodded and scanned the mail. Hmm, well little test drive for this cute little Apple. Havent seen this model yet She swiveled her own chair, eyes suddenly wide. This is an experimental model. How did you get it?

I own stock. Also Im famous for mucking them up, so they figure that if I can use one, any idiot can.

You cant be that bad!

Simon winced. Err, Willow, Im an executiveI tell people to use computers. I can turn it on in the morning. I can use word processors, but I get my secretaries to check it before it goes out. I can e-mail. And Im barely internet capable.

Willow sighed. You really should learn you know; computers and the internet are the future.

I know that Willow. Which is why I own IT stock. Henry Ford told my great-grandfather the future was in automobiles and he bought stock, but that didnt mean he ever got into a car. He looked a bit defensive.

Joyce put a hand on her beaus shoulder. Im sure Willow can teach you anything you need to know.

Simon gave her a twinkly-eyed smile. I thought

Realizing that he was going to make a remark that would make her blush she put her hand on his lips. Shush. Ne pas devant les enfants.

Willow giggled and leant back in the chair. Awww. And it was just getting interesting too.

Joyce gave her a look and then flashed a wicked grin. Mmmm. Desire-tu un exemple plus pratique, tite Saule? She ran her other hand up and down Simons chest suggestively and felt him shiver just a bit.

Willow flushed, eyes wide. NO! She glanced at her friends who were looking a touch confused and groaned. Ill just write a nice little report on this computer shall I? Im sure that will be fine, much more interesting than French. And what can be said in French. And should not be said in French. Bad French, well actually, your French is pretty good, your accent is lovely, but what you said wasUmmm Going to play with the computer now. Willow ducked behind her hair and her babbling sank away into confused muttering.

Buffy looked at her mother. Oooookaaaayyy. I so do not want to know what you just said. So, whatre we gonna do now?

Joyce felt Simons tongue flicker against her fingers and noticed his eyes and face were completely innocent as he did so. She hastily removed them and wiped them dry on his shoulder, hiding the act in an affectionate gesture, giving him just a hint of reproving eyebrow. He quirked his back. Oh yes, the hand down his chest. Turnabout. Not _quite_ fair play.

Well get in the cars and go home dear, have dinner, you do your homework, work a bit on the basement maybe and then we go to bed.

Will we now? Simons velvet baritone made shivers run down her spine and she struck his chest with the flat of her hand. Simon, behave.

Buffy groaned. I need brain bleach. Oh god.

Joyce chuckled. Anything else here you want to show us, Simon?

Well the gym is not finished yet and the infirmary still needs most of its equipment so not really. Unless you want to have a look at the cafeteria?

Joyce mustered the expressions of the group. I dont think so.

Simon nodded. The carry case for the laptop is under the desk. Willow started shutting it down and the main system as well, picked up the case and packed it away.

They left the office saying goodbye to Gerry and Joyce led Willow to the stairs. Cmon dear, well take the stairs again. Simon followed, muttering something about getting some exercise, carrying a slim brown leather briefcase and the laptop in a leather bag hanging from his shoulder. There were several office workers who looked at him with wide eyes, especially when he took Joyces hand as they arrived on the ground floor and could walk side by side. Joyce could hear the whispering behind them as they left the office and stepped into the foyer. Even Neave looked stunned at seeing them, though she recovered far more quickly. Once they were outside she gave him a look. Is it really so remarkable for you to hold hands with anybody that people stare at you?

People over the age of eight, yes.

Oh, Simon She pulled him into a quick hug. She saw a young girl behind a window not just go wide eyed but also gawp like a fish. Then Simon drew her off to the parking lot. There were five parking spaces marked for executives, one empty.

That one is yours, if you dont want to park by the side of the road.

Executive parking space?

Ones been set aside for your use at all the branch offices.

Joyce smiled. Oooh a parking spot in New York

Well, its in a parking garage. He kissed her gently and she walked to the front of the building to get into her own car and drove off, Simon following in the old Volvo. They cooked dinner and helped the teens make homework and then worked a bit more on clearing out the basement and readying it for renovation. Xander was delivered to his parents house by Simon and Joyce sent Dawn to bed. Buffy and Willow withdrew to Buffys room to talk the talk that teen girls talk and Joyce went upstairs to remind them it was a school night. Willow scooted under her duvet quickly and Joyce walked to her bedside, smiling, and tucked the redhead in, kissing her forehead. She rose and Buffy moved down under the blankets herself. Joyce raised a questioning eyebrow and Buffy nodded. Joyce tucked her in as well. Once Joyce had left, after bidding them goodnight, Buffy rose and put on her patrol clothes.

The annoying thing about this is that I dont get tucked in when I get back from patrol.

Willow snuggled deeper. Hmmm. Want me to help?

No, I want you to stay here and keep safe. And dont wait up this time, you dont have Slayer metabolism and do need more sleep than I do. The blonde scowled. I need more sleep than I get, dammit.

Willow giggled, sleepily. Hmm, language Buffy. Buffy rolled her eyes and left through the window.

**Translations: **

**Ne**** pas devant les enfants: Not in front of the children**

**Desire-tu un exemple plus pratique, tite Saule?: Would you like a more practical example, Lil ****Willow****?**


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter 12 Poetry and romance_

Rupert Giles sat in the staff lounge, reading a rather interesting work on Rusalka, though he doubted hed ever need the knowledge, when he was interrupted by the humourous voice of the Comp Sci teacher.

It seems youre rubbing off on people.

I beg your pardon? He looked up at her from over his glasses. She stood there, wearing a black top with a red sweater over it and a pair of black slacks and red shoes and she was lovely, and she was far too young and he could not, in good conscious, drag her into his life. She held out a cup of coffee to him, and he accepted it and she sat down by his side.

I caught Buffy Summers reading Emily Dickinson. In class; under the table.

Oh dear. Reading poetry. What ever will happen next

Well reading teens; that must be a sign of the apocalypse, right?

Giles winced. God, I hope not. So what did you do?

Not much. Looked at Owen Thurman. She blushed and put it away.

Giles grinned. Effective. And Mr. Thurman?

I told him to look up her works online. So, budding romance?

From what I understand Mr. Thurmans romantic brooding attracts a great many young ladies. Or had you not observed this fact on your rounds in the cafeteria?

Jenny gave him an amused grin. They do seem to gravitate around him dont they? Id say like flies around a candle, waiting to be set aflame, but he seems curiously oblivious and unwilling to burn them.

A point in his favour. Though for the life of me I cant see how reading Emily Dickinson makes one a romantic prospect.

Jenny snorted. I suppose hed have to read about the Dewey Decimal system? Or She looked at his book which was open at a rather fanciful illustration of one of the semi naked river spirits. ErrrHalf naked ladies? She blinked at him in surprise.

Rusalka. Russian river spirits. Like nymphs, only nastier. But no.

I see. So what would you consider romantic?

Giles looked at her. *Lord she is beautiful. Its never going to work Rupert, dont fool yourself. Shes eleven years younger than you; and not interested in an old fogey.* He looked at her easy grin and wickedly gleaming eyes. *Shes toying with me. Well now, two can play that game.*

It would depend on the circumstances.

Circumstances? How is romance dependent on circumstance?

Whom one is wooing, what the state of the romance is.

State of the romance? You sound like youre giving a political presentation, not charming a lady. She took a sip of her coffee, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She mad an airquote with one hand. And now, Rupert Giles will read the State of the Romance.

He took of his glasses and polished them, running through his mind the poems that might be suitable. He put them back on and noted that several of the older staff members were looking at them with interest. And it hit him. He grinned to himself as he sipped his own coffee, and he realized she knew how he drank it and that he knew how she drank hers. Interesting. And before he knew it he was reciting to her, in a soft, gentle voice.

_Vivamus, mea Ginevra, atque amemus,_

_rumoresque__ senum severiorum_

_omnes__ unius aestimemus assis!_

_soles__ occidere et redire possunt;_

_nobis__, cum semel occidit brevis lux,_

_nox__ est perpetua una dormienda._

_da__ mi basia mille, deinde centum,_

_dein__ mille altera, dein secunda centum,_

_deinde__ usque altera mille, deinde centum;_

_dein__, cum milia multa fecerimus,_

_conturbabimus__ illa, ne sciamus,_

_aut__ ne quis malus invidere possit_

_cum__ tantum sciat esse basiorum._

Jenny felt her blush rising. Her Latin was rusty, but she knew what basia meant and centum and mille. Dr Edwards, who taught Latin to such students as could be hounded into taking it as an extra was looking on with both interest and a wide smile and her blush moved down her face and shoulders to her breasts. *Damn the man. I dont even know exactly what hes saying and hes making me blush.*

She was eternally grateful that the bell rang at that time and she could flee the lounge without it looking like that was what she was doing.

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On Wednesday evening Buffy braved the vision of her mother snuggling on the couch and walked into the den, sitting opposite her mother.

Mom?

Joyce looked up from her book, the now inevitable glasses on her nose. Yes honey?

Do you know anything about Emily Dickinson?

Buffy could see the faint stiffening in her mothers shoulders and the sudden tightening around her eyes. Simon must have noticed the change, as he looked up in some alarm.

Dickinson? Why do you want to know about Dickinson?

Ummm, something to do with school.

Homework? Joyces voice was clipped.

Sort of. Buffy looked at her mother with some amazement.

I see no reason why I should know anything about an agoraphobic lesbian shut-in whose questionable mental stability was worsened by caring for her invalid mother while her brother, who was married to her best friend, had illicit and noisy affairs with a nymphomaniac in the next room. And NEITHER SHOULD YOU! Joyces voice rose in agitation until both Buffy and Simon looked at her in amazement. She flung down her book and stormed up the stairs.

Simon gave Buffy a worried look. I assume that doesnt happen often?

Buffy felt the tears stinging in her eyes. No. II

Simon rose and sat next to her, asking with his eyes and then putting his arms around her as she nodded. Is it a boy?

Buffy gave him a look. That obvious?

Yes. That may be part of the reason why your mother reacted the way she did

Oh. Buffy flushed a little. What mom said, was that true?

Simon pursed his lips. Essentially correct, if quite uncharitable. You know no reason why simply asking about Dickinson would do this to her?

No. Buffy said it in a tiny little voice. Is she angry with me?

Ill find out. But I dont think this was aimed at you. Dont worry Buffy. But can I ask a name?

Owen Hesnice.

Ladies man?

Ladies ignoring man. He broods.

Aha. Reads poetry, especially Dickinson, broods, wears black. Writes poetry too. Ennui. Getting an image here.

Buffy smiled, a bit wanly. *Have to ask Wills who this Enious bloke is.*

Simon rose and ruffled her hair, kissing her forehead. Ill go find out what is bothering your mother.

Kay. *That feltniceA dad thing.*

Simon walked into the dining room where Willow was looking at him with wide eyes, obviously astonished at what shed heard. And Xander had ducked down in his French homework. Willow, would you mind sitting with Buffy? I dont think she should be alone right now. The redhead nodded and went to sit with her friend, who had drawn her legs up onto the couch and had flung her arms about them, her eyes barely peeking over her knees. Simon squeezed Xanders shoulder comfortingly and went upstairs opening the door to the master bedroom.

Joyce was sitting on the bed, against the headboard, knees drawn up, arms tightly around them; a posture so similar to her daughters Simon had to suppress a smile. He sat next to her and put an arm around her.

Would you care to explain to me why you just bit off poor Buffys head? Shes almost in tears.

Joyce sighed. I thought I was over this.

Want to tell me?

Not really.

Later?

Joyce winced. Much later. She let out a breath. I need to talk to Buffy.

Yes. His name is Owen by the way. Sounds like a bloody romantic poet. He gave her a mock scowl.

Joyce smiled. Well at least we both guessed her real reason for asking. She nudged him with her elbow. Youre picking up this parenting thing real fast.

He grinned. You try keeping randy teens out of a hospital ward for a while and you pick up the rudiments.

Joyce leaned into his shoulder. A month ago she would not have come to ask me. Thank you.

Its my very great pleasure. Go talk to Buffy, the longer you wait, the more difficult it becomes.

She sighed again and rose. The most annoying thing about you is that youre right so often.

I assure you I screw up as often as any other man. If not more often.

She gave him a fond look. Sure you do.

One word: necklace.

Her lips twisted into a smile. Youre sure that wasnt an elaborate ploy?

He shuddered. JoyceI was certain you were going to slap my face and run away screaming insults and never see me again. The last method Id use to woo you would be by showing you family jewelry with such traditional implications.

Oh. Does that mean I dont get to wear it? She said it teasingly.

The minute you ask.

She blinked. *Well at least he does not waver from his goal.* Ill just go down and talk to Buffy. She backed out of her room, eyes a bit wild. She walked down quietly and into the living room. Willow scooted away from Buffy, almost cowering like a deer in the headlights. * Oh dear. Have to do something about that too. Poor Willow.*

Joyce sat between the girls and put her arms around her daughter and hugged her close before Buffy could say or do anything.

Im sorry dear. Its justI have some very bad memories about Emily Dickinson. I thought Id dealt with them.

Y-youre not angry with me?

No Buffy, absolutely not. Simon said his name was Owen?

Buffy let her head fall back on the couch. God, am I that obvious? Willow giggled.

Only to parents dear. And to those whove been sixteen. I havent forgotten _everything_.

Buffy smiled, remembering the I dont get it conversation of a few months before.

Now, Im not going to give you two... She gave Willow a significant glance and the redhead flushed in spite of herself. A mother-daughter talk. Ill trust you not to do anything stupid merely because he knows how to quote poetry? *Unlike me.*

Buffy gave her mother a small nod. She didnt even roll her eyes. There had been a pleading tone in her mothers voice that was more warning than anything she could have said. *A story there. And not a nice one Id say.*

Joyce gave Buffy another hug. Im so sorry honey. I shouldnt have shouted. Forgive Me?

Sure mom. Joyce gave Buffy a final hug. Sitting back she noted the still slightly widened, doe like eyes on Willow. *Apology time there too.*

She drew Willow into a hug and the redhead gave a startled squeak. Sorry you had to hear that Willow. That was the infamous Johnson womens temper. Not an excuse, but will you forgive me as well?

O-oh. Willow gave Buffy a nervous glance and Buffy shrugged ruefully.

Ayup. I do it too. One day Ill bite your head off.

Willow looked up at Joyce, a slight smile on her face now, eyes back to normal size. She snuggled into the older womans shoulder unconsciously and gave a contented sigh. Apologies accepted. Joyce tightened her hug. Buffy looked at the two and felt her own temper rising. *If I ever get my hands on that bitch mother of hers*

Joyce looked over her shoulder, noting her daughters expression, moved herself around a little and drew Buffy into a one armed hug while still holding on to Willow with her other arm. Buffy made a little noise and mimicked Willow, snuggling into her mother. When Joyce looked up she saw Xander standing in the doorway, looking at the three of them with a wistful expression on his face. She smiled when Dawn came up behind him and hugged him.

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Xander sat on the camp bed in the unfinished basement, looking at the mess of boxes that still sat there and the yellow lines where the walls were going to be. Willow and Buffy and Dawn were preparing for bed upstairs. Hed volunteered to use the shower first until the one in the basement was finished, according to Simon it should be possible to put in more than one. He heard a creak as the door to the basement opened and then he saw the blue grey pumps Joyce had been wearing coming down the stairs.

Xander? Can I come down?

Sure Ms. Summers! He rose quickly.

She came further down and stood by the bed. May I sit?

He smiled and gestured. Su casa es mi Casa.

Joyce sat and looked up at him. Do you mind sitting as well?

Xander nodded and slouched down next to her.

Id like to apologize for that little scene this evening.

Hey, its alright.

No it isnt. I shouldnt take out my problems on you children.

He raised his brows. Children?

Until you reach eighteen, yes. She gave him a pointed look. He chuckled.

Point.

And Im sorry I didnt do this earlier. But Willow

Willow shows her emotions more now andwell at least my mom sometimes hugs me. And knows what I like to eat, even if she never cooks.

Joyce winced. Yes Xander, it doesnt mean I dont care about you. Its just

You only have two shoulders to snuggle into? And Wills seems to need it more right now.

Yes. Y-you do understand?

Yeah Ms. SummersYoure building a spare room for me in your basement. Youre down here apologizing for not apologizing before. I understand that you care, I know that you care.

Good. And if you ever need a hug, Im there.

Xander smirked again. Dawn took care of it this time, but Ill keep it in mind.

Joyce lifted her eyebrow. By the way XanderI assume you were the one to teach her that ridiculous way to eat Twinkies?

Xander grinned. The only way to eat Twinkies!

Joyce gave him a fond hug around the shoulders. Ah well, Ill just have to concentrate on teaching you _both_ proper table manners then.

Xander leaned into the hug. Heck, with proper meals Ill learn proper manners.

Good to hear. She rose, ruffling his hair and kissing his forehead. Good night Xander.

Good night Ms. Summers. Xander changed into his nightclothes after she closed the basement door and lay down, smiling, on the camp bed. Sleep overcame him as he lay on his bed the soft touch of her lips still on his forehead.

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Joyce heard the sound of the front door slamming and winced. She looked at Willow who had startled up from the book she was reading. Xander dropped the bagel he was eating while doing his science reading. Simon and Dawn exchanged looks over the chessboard. The sound of pounding feet running upstairs and another slamming door led to Joyce putting down her own book on Florentine goldsmithing and walk up the stairs, rather more sedately.

She heard her daughters body land with a thump and a creak on her bed. She opened the bedroom door without knocking. Buffy was sitting cross-legged on the middle of the bed, hugging Mr. Gordo.

You didnt knock.

You were just going to shout at me to go away. Id no intention of doing that. Hence I just skipped the useless knock and came right in. She gave her daughter a bland look and Buffy smiled, just a little.

Want to talk about it? She sat down next to Buffy.

Not really. She gave her mother a look. But I suppose that wont stop you.

Joyce pretended to think, tapping her chin. Not when you nearly break two doors, no. I assume this is about Owen?

Yeah. We were supposed to have a date She gave her mother a worried glance.

I guessed something of the sort.

You dont mind?

As long as you obey the ground rules, no. Which does mean that next time I want to know where and until how late. 22.00 is still the time for you to be home on weekdays. She gave her daughter a mock stern look, glancing at the clock which showed it to be a quarter to ten.

Buffy smiled. Yeah, sure mom. Like anyone wants to date me.

Well, he did.

He was dancing with someone else.

Male or female?

MOM!

Sorry dear. So who was it?

Cordelia. Buffys voice could have not been filled with more loathing if she had been discussing giant cockroaches.

I see. So you were with him and she poached him?

I was lateI came in and saw them.

I see. And you didnt talk to him?

No.

Silly girl.

What?

You were late. This Cordelia person saw her chance. A dance is just a dance Buffy.

Buffy gave her mother an incredulous look. B-but

Tomorrow you need to talk to him. Why were you late anyway?

Buffy looked uncomfortable. I was taking care ofthings.

Things? Joyces eyes suddenly widened and a small flush rose to her cheeks. Oh, Oh things, I see. Well make certain youre not distracted by things tomorrow.

Buffy groaned and buried her face in Mr. Gordo, ears glowing red as she realized what her mother thought she had been doing. MOM!

Yes dear, leaving now. Joyce departed swiftly.

Buffy groaned, falling back against her pillow, face flaming. *Oh God. I cant believe she thought Id beenOh God, how can I face her*

When Joyce came to tuck in Willow and Buffy that evening she studiously avoided looking Buffy in the eye. Her shoulders seemed to be more stiff than usual and her face was thoughtful. Willow noted all this and pounced as soon as Joyce left.

Is she angry with you for going on a date?

Buffy groaned. NoI told her I was late for my date with Owen because I was taking care of things.

Oh. Umm, thats not a very good excuse Buffy; youll have to think of something better for Owen.

Buffy groaned even louder. She thought Id beenyou know. *I cant believe Im talking about this*

Willow looked confused. Know what? Suddenly her eyes widened and her face became beet red. Oh dear Then her mouth started quirking. And then she laughed. Buffy glared at her. Y-your mom must have thought you were getting desperate cause I stay here so often

WILLOW! Buffy blushed, dragging up a pillow to cover her face. I cant believe were having this conversation.

Im sorry its just funny. And here I was wondering why your mom was so awkward.

Ugh Buffy removed the pillow. Ill never be able to hold a normal conversation with her ever again.

Im sure your mom understands Buffy, she studied psychology. This is just a part of her little girl growing up. Willow said it teasingly, but with a hint of sadness that made Buffy wonder.

Im going to sleep. Buffy said firmly. No more talking about things. No more hinting at things. No more things.

What, you dont like things? Youre swearing them off?

Buffys answer was to throw her pillow at her best friend and groan.

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Buffy was humming and Willow was giggling. Joyce could hear it from where she was standing at the island in the kitchen, working on dinner. Simon was attempting to make a vinaigrette that would appeal to Dawns sweet tooth, Willows desire for tart- not too sour- a bit sweet and Buffys love of Umami. Xander was easy, hed eat anything. Both girls were poker faced when they entered to help carry dinner to the table however. Joyce smirked as she poured a glass of apple juice for Willow and a coke for Buffy. She then gave her daughter a sly look. Big date at the Bronze tonight, honey?

Buffy blinked, gawped at her mother then at a Willow, who was no help, merely mimicking her friend.

Okay mom, thats seriously scary.

Joyce pointed at the gold watch chain peeping out of Buffys pocket. Your vastly improved mood since this morning, and that. Mans watch chain, mid twentieth century. Is there a watch attached? Buffy could almost see her mothers nose twitching in curiosity.

Simon sniggered as he was mixing oil with vinegar and Joyce sniffed.

Buffy sighed and drew it forth knowing resistance was futile. Here. Go all Antiques Roadshow-y. Willows never seen you do it.

Simon sniggered again. This time Joyce sent him a glare.

Nice. Mid twentieth century. 18 carat gold case, engraved with the letters O.W. Thurman, some time ago, probably for the original owner. Watch chain has been repaired several times. She popped the case open, showing both the movement and the dial. Silvered dial, gold hands, inlaid with mother of pearl. Not a very notable company, Henryson but good quality. Swiss movement, but the case is American. In all a fairly good watch.

Willow blinked. Wow.

Buffy rolled her eyes. It gets old real fast.

Joyce gave her the watch back. So why do you have his watch? Then she blushed furiously. Ah, yes, you were late. Buffy grew equally red and Willow joined in, though she managed a giggle while Joyce and Buffy were merely mortified. Simon looked from the one to the other.

I think Im missing something here, but all my instincts scream run. So I think Ill do that, figuratively speaking. Is he picking you up? He glanced at Buffy, who nodded.

At seven.

Well if you girls leave, we can cook and youll be in time. He gave an amused glance at the flaming faces and Willow giggled again, dragging away Buffy.

Joyce recovered some of her composure as she diced the celery. Simon looked thoughtful.

Penny. Joyce said.

Shotgun.

Joyce blinked. What?

If suitors and dates start showing up, I need a shotgun. I can sit on the couch, glare, and polish it.

Joyce started giggling. Buffy would kill you.

Id almost say it would be worth it to see her face

Simon

Ill be good.

Joyce smiled. Good boys get rewarded.

Do they now? He gave her a leer and she threw a piece of celery at him.

Cook Simon.

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The doorbell rang Buffy sprang to open it, not noticing that Simon exchanged an amused glance with her mother. Owen stood in the open door, blinking.

Thats a nice clock.

Buffy looked over her shoulder, glancing at the clock. Errmyes, that wasnt running on time yesterday.

Joyce had to stifle a laugh in Simons shoulder. *God, shes like me with Brad PetersonHow history repeats itself.* She rose to meet the young man, Simon following.

She gave him a searching glance and shook his hand. Joyce Summers.

Ms Summers, its a pleasure to meet you.

He looked inquiringly at Simon. Buffy looked at Joyce. Joyce sighed. This is myfriend, Dr Simon Mayer. The hesitation made it immediately clear what their relationship was.

Owen extended his hand and Simon shook it, firmly, looking him in the eye and lifting his eyebrow ever so slightly. His voice was even and pleasant, but an undertone of command and warning was clearly audible. Mr. Thurman. I dont need to say anything do I?

Owen visibly swallowed. No sir, youre crystal clear.

Buffy sighed and took his arm. Night mom, night Simon.

She closed the door behind her and Owen. Joyce looked at Simon incredulously. What did you do to that boy?

Simon gave a boyish grin. That was fun. Way more fun than doing it to interns. Or junior officers. He scowled. If he hurts her, hes toast.

Joyce sighed, falling onto the couch. Good lord. All your repressed parenting is surfacing.

Hmm. He fell next to her and nibbled her neck. Yet strangely enough, right now I dont feel at all paternal. Or in any way parental

There was a noise on the stairs and Willow walked down. By the time she could see the two Simon was picking up his book and Joyce had her shoes off and her feet on the couch. Im going to the Bronze, Xander has been throwing stones at the window for ten minutes

Joyce sighed. We heard. He could just have sat on the couch you know, he does sleep in the basement.

Yeah, but its a tradition.

Its bad for my windows. Joyce grumbled mock sternly.

Willow smiled and opened the door and Simon looked up. Willow

Willow grinned. Well be back at ten, I know, its a school night.

Joyce gave her a smile. Of course dear. Have fun.

Willow left and they heard Xanders voice ringing out. Joyce sighed. A car honked and Dawn thundered down the stairs in her usual headlong manner, carrying a small overnight bag.

Night mom! Night Simon, see you tomorrow!

Simon blinked, but responded to the quick hug he got and looked at Joyce, who appeared smug. Was this planned? A house free of teens for the evening?

No merelyfortuitous.

Well, it will be nice to spend a quiet evening on the couch.

SimonIm getting a bit tired of the couch.

Ah. He looked a touch disappointed. Joyce smirked. *So hes a human male after all.*

I was thinking of going to bed

His eyes widened and his nostrils flared. He rose abruptly and before she could react had lifted her in his arms and was striding towards the stairs. Simon! She instinctively had thrown her arms around his neck and could feel the tension in his muscles.

Sorry Joyce, Ill go all tender and loving after Ive got you upstairs in bed.

What?

By my calculations I have slightly less than two and a half hours to show you how beautiful you are. That is barely enough to scratch the surface, but it will just have to do. I do not intend to lose a minute.

Joyce giggled. Now that is an interesting thought.

Ive got far more interesting thoughts. And Ill put them into action later.

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Joyce was sitting on the couch wearing her red dressing gown, leaning up against Simon when Buffy and Willow came home. They did not sneak; they just opened the front door and walked in, subdued.

Sorry were late mom. Her voice almost broke.

Joyce looked at her daughters face and the clock. Ten minutes to eleven. And clear traces of crying. She felt her heart contract and rose swiftly, moving to embrace her daughter.

Oh dear.

Buffy started crying. Id ask if you had a bad date, but Id say it was redundant. He d-didnt hurt you? There was fear in Joyces voice.

Buffy sniffled. No. But it was the most disastrous date _ever_.

Youre covered in dust.

Yeah, the Bronze was filthy.

Well, you two go shower, Buffy you take mine. Ill be up in a bit. She gave Buffy a last hug and the girl sighed. And next time you feel the need to cry, do it at home. Please. Buffy gave her a watery smile and nodded, then walked up the stairs shoulders bent. Willow went after her and Joyce looked after them worriedly.

Simon rose and put his arms around her, his blue silk dressing gown a striking contrast to hers. Want me to go beat him up?

Joyce sighed. No. I dont know whats wrong yet. But shes tired and emotional and needs to be in bed. Ill try and get her to talk a bit tomorrow.

I wish I could help.

Joyce smiled sadly. It used to be easy. When she was younger she told me everything. Then she hit puberty and told me nothing. Now its getting a bit better.

Dawn still tells you everything.

Cant wait till she hits puberty. She grinned wryly. And I wonder what will happen to _her_ first date, considering what you did to that poor Thurman boy.

Simon laughed. If Im lucky Ill have several years of practice before that. Ill be even better.

Shell die an old maid.

Good. He nuzzled her neck. Ill wait here until you tell me I can go up; I dont think Buffy would enjoy it if I caught her in the altogether.

Joyce giggled. God, yes. Shed scream the house down.

They sat until Joyce heard her daughter walk to her own room. She went to tuck her daughter and her friend in and joined Simon in bed. She curled into him and let herself relax into his warm embrace and slept, hoping that the day would bring better news.

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When Buffy sat down next to her the next evening after dinner she knew that her daughter was going to talk. She held in the sigh of relief and merely nudged Simon, who smiled at them and wandered away, probably to collect Xander from the dining room and sort through more of the boxes of junk the previous owners had left in her cellar and lofts. He seemed exceptionally fond of reclaiming material for a man so rich. Maybe that was why he was so rich. Willow picked up the chessboard and led a protesting Dawn away to the kitchen with a promise of hot chocolate. With marshmallows.

He thought it was cool. The danger. Buffys voice broke and Joyce blinked. Then her eyes widened as she realized what her daughter meant.

Oh BuffyIm so sorry.

He thought it was cool mom! How can anyone think that? The pain, the anguish, nearly dying! The people who get hurt. How can Joyce shut her up by dragging her in her arms. She did not say anything, and Buffy cried until she fell asleep. She had Simon carry her up.

**Authors notes:**

**The poem quoted by Giles was written by Catullus to his mistress Lesbia. Basia means kiss, Centum a hundred, mille a thousand. Giles has replaced Lesbia with Ginevra, the Latin version of Jennifer. Ginevra is the same as Guinevere, for those who wondered.**

**Let us live, my Lesbia#, and love. **

**As for all the rumors of those stern old men, **

**Let us value them at a mere penny. **

**Suns may set and yet rise again, but **

**Us, with our brief light, can set but once. **

**The night which falls is one never-ending sleep. **

**Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred. **

**Then, another thousand, and a second hundred. **

**Then, yet another thousand, and a hundred. **

**Then, when we have counted up many thousands, **

**Let us shake the abacus, so that no one may know the number, **

**And become jealous when they see **

**How many kisses we have shared. **


	12. Chapter 12

**An update.**** Ive been unable to get to a computer with the story, so Its a bit delayed. Having considered this likely, I left a double update last time.**

**And so we continueBefore you read please consider the following questions and take time to answer them, through reviews or other means.**

**In a review war mentioned that he thought Buffy and Owen should have had a conversation about the downside of the nightlife. I skipped this for the simple reason that Owen gets short shrift in the episode too. But I can certainly see wars point. If this feels incomplete to people, I can add one. (A conversation with Owen that is.)**

** Did the relationship between Joyce and Simon develop too quickly? Should I have delayed the consummation? **

**If there are other points you feel need to be addressed do not hesitate to drop a (private) review in my shell like ear. For instance: Should I clarify what was found in the Manors basement?**

_Chapter 13: Pack mentality and worried parents_

Joyce

Joyce had learned to dread that voice. The last time she heard it shed been wearing a De Givenchy dress a few days later. It meant Simon wanted to spend money on her and wasnt certain if shed accept it.

Yes?

Can I give the children mobile phones?

Joyce blinked. This was not what she expected. Why?

So they can call if they are late.

Joyce smiled. Shed felt him fidget during the three quarters of an hour that Buffy and Willow had been late after the Owen Thurman disaster. Youve obviously not had experience at this Simon; three quarters of an hour late would have most parents of teenagers dancing in happiness.

Joyce He sighed. Joyce, Im rich. Really, really rich. Kidnap and cash in rich.

Her eyes widened. Oh. Do you have bodyguards?

Not usually. Im not high profile. But there were some discreet men around at the ballet.

Joyce looked at him in shock. What? I never saw any.

Yes, that was the general intent. As well as the meaning of discreet.

She poked him and glared and he whuffed out a breath. Well anyway, they were there. Joyce, Id feel better if they and you had a company phone.

Very well. And I want to meet your security detail, the one thats watching us now.

He looked dumbstruck. What?

Im not stupid Simon. I can figure out the obvious once it has been pointed out to me. Those six rather large men who moved in across the street as roommates are home rather often and are rather old to be the college students they claim to be. She gave him a withering look. Dont insult my intelligence by denying it.

He gave her a radiant smile. God I love you when youre snarky and clever.

Dont dodge the issue. Tomorrow.

Agreed. He grasped her hand and squeezed softly.

And you owe me a darn good lunch.

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Simon walked into the High school library, cane over his shoulder, a leather attach case in his hand. The afternoon was slowly becoming evening and he had enough of waiting for the kids to come home.

You do realize that dinner is going to be cold unless you lot get a move on?

The group looked up from around the library table, where they were studying various books. Giles looked at the clock.

Quite right Dr. Meier. My apologies for keeping the Homework club for so long. He smirked.

For a homework club it leaves a lot of work to be done at night. Simon smirked back.

Buffy rolled her eyes. Can we just go eat?

Not quite.

Simon opened the case, pulling out several mobiles. Phones. One for each of you. You will contact me when you are running late. No exceptions, for whatever reason. He pointed at Giles. You get one for emergencies. Giles nodded, understanding.

Some numbers have been preprogrammed, the first is Joyce, the second my mobile, the third is a direct connection to one of my main offices, the fourth is the hospital. He smiled. You can add the rest. Ill pay for reasonable he stressed the word. use. Ill also spring for cases, or wallets, or whatever you want to keep them in, should you choose to do so. Everybody understand?

They nodded; Willow already entranced by the phone and it possibilities.

Simon took a credit card out of his bill fold and handed it to Giles. I understood from Buffy there is no clothing or other allowance given to the Slayer, so this can be used to replace clothing damaged or destroyed in the line of duty. He smiled at Buffy whose eyes were very wide. And now its time to pack up and go eat.

The teens packed their book bags and Simon picked up a page of notes. Ah, the Order of Aurelius. Nasty.

Giles gave him a look. Howd you know about that?

Simon shrugged. They were driven from New York in the late 1600s by the New York coven, led by one of my ancestors. There was a slayer involved I think, Julia Pedicott, I recall her name was.

Giles sighed. Can you let us have what you know?

Certainly. But not tonight. He gave Giles a questioning look. When was the last time you had a decent meal?

Buffy stifled a giggle. Hes on to you Giles. Better watch it or hell have you over for dinner every night.

Giles gave her a reproving look. Im well able to look after myself, thank you Dr. Meier. If you dont mind, I need to continue looking

Simon winked at Buffy. All I need to do is get Joyce in here and he doesnt stand a chance.

The teens sniggered and Giles blushed. The group left and climbed into the old Volvo, the three playing with their new phones.

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Simon was hanging drywall in the basement with Xander. Hed called in a plumber to install three sinks and no less than two showers. Hed drawn the line at the bubble bath Dawn had suggested.

An electrician had put in several new sockets and a superfast internet connection was being contemplated. Willow had had geeky hysterics.

The basement was taking on definite shape as a three bedroom; two shower, apartment. And there was even a boxroom left around the stairs as well as a utility room and a small study. Shed drawn the line at getting a new water heater, but she knew shed cave eventually, the current one was good enough for three, but with two extra teens and a live in boyfriend.

And then he was going to work on the garage, he figured the loft was going to make a fine guestroom. Hed mentioned getting the roof level raised And there were boxes and old furnishings of the previous owners in there as well. She shook her head, amazed at the enjoyment he took in working with his hands.

Shed have to have the house revalued after all the improvements; it had to be worth more already. The budget was going to be stretched thoughthe roof raising was going too far she decided, and the heater would have to wait a year or two. The occasional cool shower was hardly going to kill them in California.

Xander was making some sort of quip and Simon laughed. Willow and Dawn were playing chess again and Buffy was reading her biology homework, a sad expression on her face. The new science teacher was competent, but he wasnt Dr. Gregory. Joyce thought of her now rather extended family and smiled to herself. Theyd put in an order for Xanders bed, hed been smiling broadly ever since. The room wasnt quite finished, but theyd put the finishing touches on it while Xander was staying there. The bed would go in the minute after the floor went in. That boy was never going to get abused again, not if Joyce had anything to do with it.

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A horrifying scream ran through the Summers house. Mother and eldest daughter looked at each other and grinned.

Buffy sighed into her juice and Joyce gave her a look. Its a trip to the zoo. Not a death sentence.

Ive been to zoos. We went every year at Hemery.

I know; I chaperoned on one occasion.

Oh god, dont remind me.

Language Buffy.

Buffy groaned and tried to drown her sorrows in orange juice.

Im sure youll have fun. Dont inhale your juice. Willow came in looking pleased with herself.

Good morning. Dawns up.

We heard. What did you use? Buffy sounded interested.

Nothin. I just have cold hands in the morning. Her expression was now really smug.

Joyce smiled. You do realize this means shell try and get even?

Willow blinked. Ermm

Buffy nodded sagely. I fear so. And Dawn can be _frightfully_ inventive.

Willows lip started to quiver and Buffy lightly punched her arm. Its a problem you get with younger sisters. Willows quivering lip stopped and her eyes widened, her mouth widening into one of her irrepressible happy smiles.

Yeah. Okay. Buffy looked at her friend confusedly, but kept her silence when Joyce shook her head.

Xander slouched in, yawning. Did I hear Dawn crowing in the morning? And a good morning to you all. He grabbed a slice of bread and popped it in the toaster. Joyce made a mental note she either needed a bigger toaster or an extra one.

Willow nodded in reply to his question. Yup. The magical Rosenberg morning hands did the trick.

Xander grimaced. Not the Rosenberg morning hands! They have been banned by treaty and are considered cruel and unusual punishment.

Joyce gave them a look. And how does Xander know about Rosenberg morning hands?

Willow looked a bit sad. Jesse always had me wake Xander after sleepovers when we were kids.

Joyce nodded in understanding. Shed heard Jesse had been killed by a gang, which still worried her. She hoped Buffy would not go vigilante again. She rose, putting a comforting hand on Xander and Willows shoulder, and then had to intervene in a friendly quarrel when Buffy snagged Xanders toast. She needed to get that extra toaster soon.

The teens left for school and their trip before Dawn managed to show up, muttering dire vengeance about evil cold hands. Hurry up dear, everybody else is gone already and you only have a few minutes to eat.

*And you have a new big sister, even if neither you nor her quite realize it yet.*

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Xander rubbed his ribs where his father had struck him the night before. Tonight was the night hed get even. Hed told Ms. Summers after dinner even his parents would notice if he was absent every night. Shed believed him, even if Willow had looked a touch suspicious. The green glow in his eyes grew brighter as he strode through the front door of home and he saw the drunk on the couch.

So. Mr. know-nuthin is finally home. Seen anythin good in the zoo? All the little animals play? Think ya can getta job there. Shovelin dung behind the elephants?

Still a better job than any you ever managed to hold down.

Wha? You talkin back to me boy? You think you can take on your Ol man?

Old, Ill go with old. ManI doubt youve managed to prove that since nine months before I was born.

Anthony Harris rose; roaring and swinging his fist at his son, only to have his punch blocked. Xander knocked the arm aside and pushed his father back on the couch. Youll never hit me again. Youll never touch me again. Youll never lay a hand on me again. Do you understand me you piece of crap?

Tony Harris glared. Thas no way to talk to your father!

I might not if you were a better one. Xander stalked up the stairs to his bedroom.

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Dinner wasawkward. Xander glowered at everyone indiscriminately, even literally growling at Joyce and Simon. Willow sat looking at him with hurt in her eyes. Buffy was confused. Joyce had firmly changed the subject several times when Xanders baiting and sarcasm had became nasty, and given him worried glances as he studied her with a terrible intensity.

You seem out of sorts. You practically drove Dawn to tears and all she wanted was to play a game. Simon sat down by the young man who was swinging on the porch seat.

Whats it to you?

Weve had this conversation Xander. Because I care.

Do you? Do you care enough to go to my dad and beat the shit out of him if he hits me again? Xander glared at him.

Id prefer to send in lawyers. Its less messy. And nastier.

Cant take him in a fight can you? Too much pencil pushing.

Xander

Know what? I dont need this. I dont need you on my case. I can take care of myself. I dont need you or your bitch ho! Xander rose and made to leave when his arm was taken in a firm grip.

Alexander, you will sit down and you will apologize for what you said! Then you will go inside and apologize to the others.

Ha! You think you can take me? Give it your best. Ow. Xander found himself lying uncomfortably on his front, a knee in his back, his arm at almost a ninety degree angle to his body, his legs firmly pinioned by the older mans body.

Now Xander, I dont know what you think you are doing, but this isnt like you. Xander growled and shifted, but the pain in his arm, back and shoulder intensified. Two brown eyes tinged with green lowered until they could look into his own. They were hard, and cold and full of intelligence and command.

The boy swallowed.

Xander. I dont know whats gotten into you, but I for one dont like it. Youve hurt Willow, Dawn and now youve insulted Joyce. I will not stand for it. Do you understand?

Yes sir.

Im going to let you up now. Dont mistake that for weakness. You couldnt take me no matter how hard you tried. Until you are ready to apologize and behave I think it might be wise if you stayed away.

He let go and rose in one swift movement, gazing down at Xander. The boy got up, more easily than he expected, gave him a look and ran off into the darkness. Pondering the possibilities, Simon went inside. There were three sad and frightened girls in there; that needed to be comforted, and a worried mother.

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Joyce Summers-Ellis very rarely swore. But upon seeing the damage the rainstorm had done to her house she not only swore, but cried. There was subsidence along the back wall and the roof had buckled so it was leaking in Dawns room. It was likely that the foundations needed to be fixed and she had no money for extensive repairs. She leaned her forehead against the back wall and swore softly, the tears running down her face. Dammit. Why do these things always happen to me? Why the fuck cant they happen to some Hollywood bimbo with a sugar daddy.

Talking to yourself dear? Thats the sign of an imbalanced mind. She felt his warm arms around her waist and his breath on her neck just before he kissed it. What seems to be the problem?

See there? The corner of the house is lower than it was. I saw it in the kitchen this morning.

I saw. It will need work.

Dammit Simon! I cant afford this. I spent every cent I had to buy this house and the Gallery and pay off that bloody gym She turned into him, tears flowing. And Id just thought that it would be worth more with the new basement apartment.

JoyceLoveWhere have I been living for the past months?

Sunnydale?

Simon rolled his eyes. In this house Joyce, with you. This, if you will excuse me saying so, is my home. I like living here. I dont mind at all spending money to keep it habitable.

Simon, I cant. That sort of money I just cant

Why not?

BecauseId feel the need to repay you and I couldnt; afford repaying with money and theres nothing else you want except to marry me and I dont want to marry you just to keep my house

He kissed her mouth, stopping her tearful stream of words. Home. Your home. JoyceIve never in my life lived in the same house with people like Im doing now. With family. He kissed her again. Ive been happier these past few months than I have in my entire life. Itd break my heart to have to leave. And it breaks my heart to see you this sad.

SimonWhat if it doesnt workif we dont work? She looked at him with large, glistening eyes, the touches of blue and green, sapphire and emerald that were so uniquely hers mesmerizing him.

I have solicitors. They can draw up a contract if you want.

She sighed. Im still not marrying you yet, you manipulative bastard.

Hmmm. His eyes flashed and she gave him a suspicious look.

What do you have in mind Simon? Get me drunk and drag me off to Vegas to get married by Elvis?

He smiled into her neck. An appealing notion. But no. Just the yet. I can live with the yet very well for now.

Twit.

Yes dear.

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The teachers lounge at Sunnydale High was full. The teachers were disinterested. Flutie had a nasty habit of calling faculty meetings for the most ridiculous things, like the presentation of that stupid pig.

Jenny Calendar sighed and sat back. From under her lashes she studied Rupert Giles as the librarian sat slouching in a seat as far away from the place where Flutie tended to stand as possible. To her shock Martin Hedgeworth, one of the English teachers was wondering what student had gotten him or herself killed. The consensus among the four teachers talking was that the likeliest candidate was Harmony Kendall. They were convinced that shed one day just wander into a forest and manage to catch a blunt stick in her eye. She saw Rupert wince as he heard the remarks. She didnt feel to comfortable with them herself.

Jason Carlyle, the Vice Principal appeared, looking pale and rather disconcerted. In a school that had a bloody obituary column in its school newspaper that was a worrying sign. Carlyle cleared his throat.

It took a bit but finally the room fell silent. Carlyle spoke. Theres been anincidentapparently one of the local packs of wild dogs got into the schooltheyve eaten Herbert the Pigand they broke into the Principals officeand ate him as well.

Jenny felt her stomach turn. Several of the other teachers looked fairly green as well. Death might be a weekly occurrence at the school but the devouring of the principalthat was new. She swallowed but still felt her gorge rise. Suddenly Rupert was there, holding a metal waste paper basket. She grabbed from him, putting it between her legs and vomited violently. She noted that several of the longer serving teachers were holding out baskets as well. And here shed wondered why so many of the things were around

Rupert held her hair back from her face and murmured soothing words. Once shed emptied her stomach he rubbed her back. He went to the small kitchen and wet his handkerchief, letting her use it to wipe her face.

Feeling a bit better?

Jenny smiled wanly. Wild dogs are running through the school eating peoplehow do you think I feel?

Bloody awful probablybut I always feel a bit better after Ive stopped vomiting. I hope the same goes for you?

A bit. Now what do we do?

Wellso far the school hasnt closed down for anythingincluding decapitation of a teacher. So Id imagine we get sent back to our classes and continue with or jobsafter informing such pupils as have not been, or are currently being eaten by packs of wild dogs of course.

Jenny grimaced. Youre probably right. She sighed. The man was

An idiot, but he did care for the childrenand he tried, no matter how inept he could be.

Jenny had to admit it was a fair assessment. She nodded. I wonder who theyll find to replace him.

Ive got no idea. But I cant imagine anyone being less suited to the role than poor Flutie.

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Buffy looked at the brass plate with the discreet lettering and the paneled door, then at her friend. Willow took a deep breath and pulled the cord. The speaker next to it reacted immediately.

MIC, Neave Cameron, how may I help you?

Miss Cameron? This is Buffy Summers, I dont know if you remember The door swung open and the same security guard from before smiled at them. Neave waved from behind her desk, on the phone. Please come in, Miss Summers, Miss Rosenberg.

The girls walked through the doorway and the door was closed behind them. The security guard smiled at them even more widely as Neave spoke to the person on the other end of the line.

Miss Summers and Miss Rosenberg are here to see Dr. Meier, Mrs. Yancey. She listened for a moment and then smiled at the two girls and nodded. Ill send them right up. She hung up the phone and waved towards the office door, pressing a button to open it.

I believe you prefer the stairs, Miss Rosenberg?

Willow nodded and looked at Buffy, who waved her onwards. The girls walked through the office and the remaining staff smiled and nodded. They took the stairs quickly and the security guard on the third landing opened the door for them, let them into Geraldine Yanceys office and closed it behind them again.

She smiled at them, looking over her screen. Dr Meier is expecting you, you can go right in.

Both girls nodded their thanks and rather distractedly entered, leaving Gerry wondering what might be the matter.

Simon took one look at the girls and rose quickly, leading them to a leather couch and coffee table in the corner, seating them next to each other on the couch and getting them a soda and apple juice from a small fridge hidden behind another bookcase.

He settled himself with a cup of strong smelling tea. Buffy wrinkled her nose at it. Simon shrugged.

Lapsong Souchong, a smoked tea. He winked at them. Your mother wont let me drink it in her vicinity either. Now tell me what has the two of you so upset you show up at my office just after school and before dinner?

Buffy looked at her soda and at Willows juice. Her eyebrows rose. Really getting the parental vibe here, Simon.

Simon gave his trademark shrug. Your mother rubbing off on me. But I doubt my paternal behaviour is why youre here?

Buffy grinned a little sheepishly. Err actually it kinda is.

Simon blinked, pleased surprise showing on his face. Oh. Umm. Do tell?

Willow took a deep breath. Its about Xander. He was acting all weird and it turns out that he was possessed by this Hyena thingy and he was like all Grrr mean and threw a ball at me real hard in dodge ball andand he ate a pig and the rest of the pack ate principal Flutie and then he was all protect-y once this weird zoo doctor was going to kill me.

Willow started making small sniffling noises and her eyes became moist as she babbled. Simon rose and settled between them, putting an arm around Willow, drawing her in close and kissing her temple. Easy there Willow. Deep breaths. Now what can I help you with?

Buffy groaned. Its all complicated and emotion thingies and stuff.

Willow sniffled. I-is my face pasty?

Simon smiled. No. Its a very pretty face. And if youre a bit pale, considering youre a red head using a high factor sun block thats no more than can be expected and keeping out of the sun is quite wise.

S-seriously?

My grandfather had very pale skin and much more red in his hair than I do. He spent most of his time in his office or library. I remember we went to Coney Island once when I was young and he got a bad sunburn. My grandmother scolded him terribly. Youre very much like him.

Willow smiled wanly. I-its justI thought he liked me

Ah. So thats why youre here. He looked at Buffy. Are you here just for moral support? Or do you have questions of your own? He looked worried.

Buffy worried her lower lip with her teeth. UmmmHe went all sort ofgrabbywith me.

Oh dear. I assume that you managed to fend him off?

Knocked him out cold.

Good for you. Might I ask by the way why you are talking to me instead of Dr Giles?

Willow smiled into his shoulder, not answering. Buffy rolled her eyes a bit and answered. Cause Giles is nice and knows a lot about mystical stuff. But you know about that, and youre well _fatherly_. And there are some things I dont want Giles to know. She played with the buttons on her leather jacket.

I see. What do you wish to know?

H-how much of what happened was

Was Xander? Probably very little. He tightened his hold on Willow and put his other arm over the back of the couch and settled a bit. Buffy bit her lip again and looked at him from under her lashes. He smiled and lowered the arm, drawing her in to his embrace as well.

Possession is just that, something else taking over. From what I know about the subject, and most of it comes from a big game hunter my grandfather studied who had been possessed by a lion spirit, the actual individual gets subsumed, submerged. The knowledge of the person whose body is possessed usually remains, but the person itselfIs gone. If possession lasts too long, the host may be driven insane by the actions of the possessing spirit or entity. So the Hyena took Xanders memories, emotions and knowledge and used them to things in a way Xander would never doact in ways that Xander never would, hurt you both in ways Xander never would..

A-and when he went all grabby with Buffy, and sniffed her andand The unspoken why not with me could clearly be heard by Buffy and Simon. Simon let out a sigh.

WillowI fear that Xander sees you, really and truly as a sister. Hyenas that are related closely will do their utmost to prevent mating with each other. Buffy, being his next closest female acquaintance He swallowed, his eyes going wide.

Buffy looked at him worriedly. Simon? Whats wrong? Hes not going to be chasing me anymore is he? Cause the whole getting sniffy in my personal spacenot fun.

NoNo once the possession is gone the personality reversal is instantaneous.

So whats wrong?

Hyenas are led by an alpha male and female, a family groupYoung males try to win the favours of the alpha female by fighting with or defeating the alpha male

Yah. And? Theres no alpha male in the Slayerettes, except maybe Giles Her eyes widened. Mom? He was growling at both of you at dinnerBut, that doesnt fit, I mean he didnt go after mom

Apparently he thinks of Joyce as the Alpha female and of me as the alpha male. He attempted to fight me.

Buffy raised an eyebrow. Attempted?

After dinnerI had to use quite a painful hold to subdue him. And probably his Hyena strength wasnt fully developed yet.

But, seriously, mom? Xander and MOM?

Willow giggled through her sniffs. Seems like you werent his first choice Buff.

Willow Simon said it reprovingly. This is no joking matter. I wouldnt have had a chance if Xander had been in his full Hyena strength Joyce wouldnt have had a chance. He gulped and looked at the red head. Neither would youve had. So all in all we can be very thankful for the way this played out.

Willows eyes went very wide. Oh. Yes. Very. She shuddered and Simon drew her close into his chest. Easy little one.

Buffy played with the buttons on her jacket some more. Soooohe first wanted to go after momand then he went after meand he tried to drive away Willow cause shes his sisterand he fought you for top dog positionwhy did he snarl at Dawn?

Same reason as Willow: sister, but inferior.

Buffy sighed. So Im not of the sister-y material?

You might be. Youre also the senior female after your mother, which makes you attractive. Even if he does think of you as a sister, he might still in extremis have wanted to form, or lead, a new pack with you.

Still very much of the eewww.

Considering my relationship with your mother, Im in complete agreement on the eewww.

Buffy sniggered before her eyes went wide and her mouth opened in an O. Oh lordYouveWith momEEEEWWWW! Old people sex!

Simon laughed. Thank you Buffy, for that lovely image.

Buffy screwed her eyes shut and grimaced, trying to lose the visual. Yah. So, he doesnt think me prettier than Willow?

Simons mouth quirked. I couldnt tell you that. What I can tell you is that he probably thinks of Willow as a sister, no matter how pretty she is. I personally think you are both very pretty girls.

Willow smiled, if a tad sadly. Nice save.

Not a save Willow. The honest truth. You are a very pretty girl and one day you will have to beat suitors off with a stick.

Willow giggled, absently rubbing her cheek on his tweed lapel. Buffy took her hand and squeezed gently. Hes right Will; they will be beating down the door to get at you.

Simon scowled. Actually I think Ill lock both of you in your rooms for the next twenty odd years. And stand behind the door. With a big stick. And then I will beat them up with the stick.

Buffy and Willow looked at each other and started laughing. Simon flushed. Okayso maybe Im overdoing the paternal stuff a bit.

Buffy reined in her laughter, but Willow still had fits of giggles. So how did you do that to Owen? He barely dared touch me for half an hour after we left.

Simon gave her a dark look. Touch you?

Buffy groaned, cheeks flushing. Not like that! Get your mind out of the gutter. We were going dancing and he kept me at arms distance every time I wanted to get even a little closer.

Ill tell you if you tell me what happened that night.

Buffy sighed. I suppose

And Buffy, WillowI might have been able to help more with Xander if I had known earlier. Please let me know about these little things.

Willow bristled. Why should we? I mean you promised to help! And where have you been? You told Giles you had stuff on the Order of Aurelius and youve not told us yet! O-or anything. And you were going to teach me magic. And youve not even shown me a single spell!

Simon grinned at her and lifted an eyebrow. Havent I? Maybe youve just not been paying attention. As for the information about the Order of Aurelius, Ive sent to New York for such items in my library as might be useful. It takes time to collate the information and ship such books safely. They can hardly be Fed-exed.

Willows eyes widened. Youve done magic? In front of me? And you didnt tell me? Thats so not fair!

Actually its lesson one. To see if you can feel the magic as it is cast and as you live in close proximity with it.

C-close proximity?

Lesson two, since lesson one has failed: use common sense to think what I might have done, and where.

Willow pouted. Youre no fun.

Im your teacher. I want you to learn every thing about magic, not just the fun parts. Every action in magic has a reaction, and unlike in physics it is not always equal and opposite.

Oh? How so?

That is a lesson for a later time.

Oh poop!

Buffy, whod been following the conversation from her own position on a lapel smirked. Dont press too hard Will, if you annoy this teacher he may get out the switch. Willow blushed a fiery red and glared at her friend. She opened her mouth to retort but Simon intervened.

Hush Willow. If you cant, Ill help you. Just ask, but after thinking about it and trying. Oh, by the way, I need to meet with that witch in your class, Amy Madison? She should not be left untutored.

Amys a witch? Willow blinked in confusion.

Of course she is. Magic is both a physical and mental ability. Her mother would not have been able to cast spells in her body if Amy had not been able to cast them herself. And regrettably her mother used some pretty dark magics to get into her body and while she was in it, so I need to know if, and how, these effected her.

Buffy blinked. Wow. Never thought of that.

Which is why Im glad Im here. If her power is anywhere near that of her mother, you dont want to see what she can do is she remains untrained.

Willows eyes grew wide. B-but shes our friend! She wouldnt

She might not want toBut the lure of the dark side of magic is very strong.

The power of the dark side Willow giggled. Yes oh Obi-wan.

And where do you think Lucas got his ideas from, hmm Willow?

Buffy sniggered. Yeah, right.

The knowledge is not all that difficult to find Buffy. Mythology is full of it. References to dark sides and anger fill the worlds psychological libraries as well.

Buffy nodded thoughtfully. Spose. Anyway, can you take us back home? Its getting time for you to help with the cooking. I want Grans pasta.

Simon rolled his eyes. You always want your Grans pasta.

Its a great pasta.

Willow nodded. And you and mo...-Ms Summers make it wonderfully, the peppers all lovely and crisp and the sauce all creamy and the pasta all lovely all dente and the salad, with all the little nuts.

Simon laughed. Lucky for you two we bought the ingredients for it then, hmmm?

Buffy slapped his shoulder. You just wanted to hear Willow babble about how well you cook.

It is always entertaining. He rose, letting go of the reluctant Willow. Buffy was a little quicker to relinquish her hold, but seemed unfazed by the close proximity shed been in with her mothers boyfriend. They took the stairs down after Willow had packed away the laptop, got into the car and picked up Dawn at school. Xander was not there for dinner. There were a lot of leftovers.

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Xander stood outside his parents house. He had a headache and his chest hurt and he could not go to the Summers house. He could not face Buffy, Willow, Dawn and Joyce. He was afraid. Nothing he could say would make up for what he did; for what he had done; had wanted to do. Tears ran down his face and he slowly opened the door. The fist in his side took him by surprise, exactly the same place where hed been hit before. He grunted as the next blow shook him and he coughed in pain. The blows to his torso shook him and he did not fight back. He deserved this. He deserved whatever the man who had fathered him did. He had nothing else left, after what he had done.

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Joyce had tucked in Willow and Buffy and now Buffy was preparing to Patrol, getting dressed again. Willow was eying her with weary eyes, yawning on occasion.

Buffy pulled on Angels jacket, too large for her though it was. You were going to say Mom. She said it softly, and it was clearly not a question.

Willows sleepy eyes flew open and to her friend, wide, frightened and shocked. I didnt mean to! I mean, I know shes your mom, not mine, and she couldnt and you wouldnt Tears were running down the redheads face. A girl can dream, cant she? Im sorry Buffy, Im sorry. Im sorry; I didnt mean to steal your mom.

Buffy grasped her friends shoulders and gave the girl a shake. Willow! Wills! Stop crying, its alright. She drew Willow into a hug. I dont mind. I dont mind at all. Its alright lil Sis. Its alright.

Willow drew in a deep breath. W-what did you say?

Its alright?

Lils sis? You called me lils sis?

Well you are younger. Even if you are bigger than me. Though not that much. Buffy said it teasingly, but with a serious look in her eyes.

Willow bristled through her broad smile and remaining tears. Im much more mature than you.

Still older.

Dyou mean it? Willow looked at the blonde her large, green eyes uncertain and tearing up again.

Yeppers. Definite.

Thanks Buff.

Youre welcome Lil sis. Sleep well.

Be carefulBig sis. Willow lay down and tried to settle, but the churning of her emotions kept her awake until Buffy returned several hours later.

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Joyce trailed her fingers over Simons naked chest and wondered at the muscles and the smoothness of his skin. He had scars, at least one of which she thought was from a bullet. Shed have to get the story behind all of them.

You seem pensive.

Something Willow said.

Oh? And what did my favourite foster daughter have to say?

We were discussing your mothers pasta. And how mom and I made it so well.

Joyce smiled. And this bothers you?

Only that it has taken a bare three months of you to make her call you mom. Id say I couldnt imagine what her life must have been like before she met you to make it happen that quickly, but I fear Ive a pretty good notion.

Hmmm. We can do our best for her. She laid her head on his chest. Im just glad that I can afford to help her now

He smirked. Advantage of being a Hollywood Bimbo with a Sugar daddy?

Shush! She playfully slapped his chest.

I love you.

Love you too. She hesitated. UmmmDoyou want to go to sleep?

He grinned and his voice dropped an octave as it went into the smooth velvet rumble that sent shivers down her spine. Depends what you have in mind

You.

He drew her up and kissed her. Sleep is overrated.

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Animal possession does not cause memory loss. The words were dryly spoken and the boy who heard them cringed. His shoulders drooped and his bookbag slid down his shoulder, only to be caught by the dark haired man beside him. Buffy and Willow told meeverything. We missed you at dinner yesterday and tonight. Joyce was worried. So were the girls. And Ive been standing here for the past two hours and that wasnt comfortable either.

I cantI liedCant lose themWillow The words were halted and disjointed and Xander winced at the arm that was put around him and his breath hissed. Simon removed his arm and lightly dropped the bag.

Bruised?

Yeah. Nothing I didnt deserve.

Buffy didnt mention you were that badly injured, certainly not when you saved Willow

Xander looked down and Simon gently put his hand to the boys face and lifted his chin, looking him in the eye. Your father? Xander swallowed. Hed thought the older man had been frightening when hed been so easily taken him down when the Hyena possessed him, but here, there was ice cold rage.

Come with me. Xander thought to resist, but was led to the old Volvo, parked half a block away so he wouldnt see it. His book bag was put on the back seat and the car drove off, to the office of MIC. Simon swiped a keycard through a slot at the back of the building and led Xander down a short hallway into a well appointed surgery, where he flicked on the lights.

Have you eaten?

No.

Simon picked up a phone and dialed. Joyce? Simon. Ive got him. Were in the infirmary at work. He needs food. Is his bed made up? He smiled at whatever she answered. Yes, Im sure he can eat the leftovers. Ill bring him home. Ill call before we leave, butJoyce, I may take him to the ER first, to get documentation. Later love. He put down the receiver and turned towards the boy.

Please take of your shirt Xander.

IOk. With fumbling hands Xander undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing the black and blue bruising on most of his torso. Simons eyes tightened. He ran a careful hand down the boys sides, noting where the worst pain was located, pressing lightly.

Anywhere else?

Thighs. Xander looked at the floor.

Please take of your jeans.

Nodding, the boy complied. The shape of his fathers boot prints could be seen clearly and Simon drew in a sharp, angry breath.

This has gone far enough Xander. Youre not staying a day longer in that house. I dont care what you think; Im calling the police and child services.

And then what? Go to a foster home? One of my drunken relatives? Camp in the park?

Of course not. Im sure that Joyce wouldnt mind having you around, nor would Dawn and Buffy. Nor I.

Three days ago, maybe.

Xander, Buffy and Willow and I understand what really happened. Showing Joyce and Dawn even half of these. He gestured at the bruises. Would make them believe they understood quite well. Now Im going to take pictures and then some x-rays and then well go past the hospital and then take you home and Ill call the police and child services in the morning.

Well maybe they dont mind but I do! I cant be trusted around them! The things I did

XanderBuffy and Willow needed to talk about what happened. And what happened, what you did, that wasnt _you_.

If it walks like a duck Xander started bitterly.

It didnt. Nor did it quack like a duck. That wasnt you Xander, it was the beast, a beast that had your memories, your knowledge and that used its instincts instead of its rational mind.

Hah. I tried to_ rape_ Buffy! I _wanted_ to rape her! And the way I hurt Willow! And

What you wanted to do to Joyce? Simon said it dryly, while readying the x-ray machine. Xander gaped at him.

H-how?

Hyena mentality. You sought out the alpha female of what you considered your pack and challenged the alpha male for the right to mate. The words were spoken without anger or the least rancour. Xanders face blanched.

I-Im sorry.

It wasnt you Xander. As I said, it had your body, and your memories, and it saw the world through your eyes, but it wasnt _you_, and eventually it would have destroyed who you are and the very body that now sits on this examining table.

He reached out a gentle hand and touched the scared face before him. And the beast took on your father, am I right? And the beast won. But XanderXander felt the need to be punished for what the beast did.

Tears started running down the boys face and Simon gathered him in close.

N-no.

Its alright to cry Xander. Theres no shame in tears.

I a-attacked you, I wanted

_You_ wanted nothing Xander. _The beast_ wanted. You are no more guilty of what happened than the mortal who became a vampire is responsible for the vampires actions.

He held the boy as he sobbed in his arms. After a few minutes the sobbing diminished and then he held out his handkerchief. Ready for the x-rays?

Yeah. Sorry about

Xander When I served in Vietnam I saw green berets and Navy Seals cry for their comrades in arms and sometimes for the people they killed. Those are among the toughest men in the US servicesIts alright to cry.

Xander gave him a weak grin.

Shall we take some pictures? He picked up a camera and looked at the young man.

Xander nodded. Ok. Ummm.

I dont need pictures of your face.

I knowTheyve done this before at the hospital.

Simon stiffened. And they never did anything?

I asked them not to. Where would I go? Stay with Willow? My drunk uncles?

Well, that changes tonight.

Simon took a number of pictures and then three x rays to ascertain what damage had been done. He helped Xander put his shirt back on and then drove them to the hospital. He winced inwardly at the familiarity with which the emergency room nurses greeted the boy. His own presence was noted and an ER doctor drew him aside as Xander joked far too familiarly with a middle aged nurse as he was lightly taped in.

Dr Mayer.

Dr. Chaudry. I will need Mr. Harris files for the report I will file with the State child services.

Dr Chaudry blinked. Errr The usual route is through county

Hasnt that been done before? Simon interrupted the younger doctor impatiently.

Chaudry rolled his shoulders. Seven times.

Then Im taking this to State.

Dr MayerYou are greatly respected as a pediatrician, but bypassing the normal channels

Simon snorted. If the channels are full of crud, Ill clean them out. He glared at the younger man who took a nervous step back. There will be consequences for the idiots in County who let this get out of hand, Dr Chaudry. There is a limit to the level of incompetence Im willing to allow.

Chaudry grinned. Youll get no argument from me. Ill get the files. He sighed, rubbing his neck. They areextensive.

Im not surprised. Thank you Dr Chaudry.

No Dr MayerThank you.

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Joyce was standing by the door when Simon brought Xander home. She gave him a short glance before gathering him into the hug hed been wanting since he woke up from his nightmare. She felt him stiffen as she touched him yet could also feel his glad surrender. She looked into his haunted eyes and wordlessly led him down into the basement, to the room as yet unfinished and with water stains from the rainstorm on the drywall. She put towels on the bed, and went to fetch one of Simons silk pajamas. She gasped as she walked in, to see Simon carefully helping Xander remove his shirt, saw the bruises that marred his smooth skin and dropped the nightclothes, backing into the wall with her hand in front of her mouth, eyes wide and tears running down her face.

Oh Xander

Xander winced. Ms Summers

Joyce I think Xander would prefer He did not finish but Joyce understood, nodding. She left without looking back.

When Simon came to bed, he looked haunted and cried himself to sleep on her breast. She did not want to think what Xander was doing.

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The State Child services had been waiting for Xander after school; with a half full bag of clothes his mother had packed and the message his father had been arrested. The people from the State had been shocked at the negligence of the local police and child services and the Mayor had already promised action.

Dinner at the Summers table was quiet. Dawn was upset because shed not been able to say goodbye to him. Joyce was upset for the same reason and that shed not been able to reassure him he would be welcome. Simon had not helped with dinner preparations but been on the phone until it was time to eat. Buffy had a terrible fear that Willow would collapse any moment, with both her best friends since early childhood now taken from her, one by death the other by circumstances.

Then she saw Joyce move Willow to the couch, and Dawn sit next to her. Dawn fell asleep with her head on Willows shoulder as the redhead read her one of her Astrid Lindgren books and Willow followed soon after, snuggled in her mothers arms. Simon carried both of them upstairs. Buffy knew; that whatever would happen, Willow would be safe.

**I found writing nasty Hyena Xander surprisingly difficult. If people feel the chapter needs fleshing out I will try and do so**


	13. Chapter 13

**A note on chronology: **

**For the purposes of this story line Ive set the ****Battle**** with Lothos in the Schoolyear 1994-1995, the first season in 1995-1996. Ive condensed the storyline of the first season episodes: The first eight episodes all take place between the start of the school term and January 1996, making Buffy fifteen years old. (References to sixteen will be retroactively changed, I want to write that birthday. ;-)) This means that Ill write a Halloween chapter, a Christmas chapter and a Buffys Birthday chapter. Ill probably write a short Xander centric fic about his birthday later. Or do it at Christmas.**

**I hope this AU meets with approval? **

_Chapter 14: Home Improvement and Curious Apprentices_

Buffy walked up to Amy as the other girl was rummaging through her locker the next morning.

Heya Ames, how ya doin

Hey Buff. Fine. More than fine.

Amy still had the happy to be alive and all is much better grin that shed worn since her mothers disappearance and her fathers return to her life.

Can we talk? In private? Buffy looked apologetic.

Amy blinked, then shrugged. Sure. She pointed at the empty classroom across the hall. In there?

Yah.

They went into the classroom and Buffy sat on a desk, legs swinging.

AmyYouve seen my moms boyfriend, right?

Amy nodded. Yeah? Guy who drops you off some times? A touch old, but still good.

Buffy chuckled. He knows about She waved a hand vaguely. You know.

Amy crossed her arms across her chest. And?

He wants to see you, get you a magic teacher. Cause, youre like gonna be a powerful witch

Amy paled and her eyes widened. H-how do you know?

Didnt. Simons of an old, old magic-y family. Your mom couldnt have done the things she did in your bod if you couldnt do magic, and pretty big magic too.

Oh. Why the training?

Cause your mom did horrible dark magic-y things in your body and Simon says that leaves sort of traces and without trainin you may go dark like your mom.

Amy gasped and started trembling. NO! Buffy was off the table and kept the taller girl from collapsing.

Easy Ames, easy. Ive got you. Thats why Im here, cause Simon wants to keep you white.

Amy took a couple of deep breaths. Okay. She shuddered. Can hecome to my home? Talk to my dad? He left mom cause

Yah, dont think thatll be a problem. You still live where you used to?

Yeah. Dad moved back in.

No stepmom?

Nah, Mom just thought that, he left cause mom was a bitch. Amy sighed, straightening. So when?

This afternoon? Simon said it ought to be as soon as possible.

Okay.

Im sorry Ames.

No. Amy shook her head. I dont wanna be like my mother. Not ever. And if thisNot ever!

Buffy gave the bigger girl a firm hug. I hear ya girl. I hear ya.

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Buffy stood in front of the gate to the Madison house, looking up at the attic where Catherine

Madison had brewed her evil. Simon was at her side and Willow next to him. The gate had been altered, the devils head had been changed into the form of a standing angel and a layer of primer had been applied to the whole of it. She knew Simon wanted to do this and she knew he wanted to have both of them here to make it less frightening for Amy. And he did not want to let Willow out of his sight, or away from Joyce and the gallery wasnt closed yet.

Buffy took a deep breath and reached to open the gate but Simon stopped her, closing his eyes and extending a hand. InterestingLets go in.

He opened the gate and walked up the path, ringing the bell. The door was opened by a tired looking large framed middle aged man. He had once been in excellent physical shape, but too much beer and too little activity had given him a large belly. His blond hair was graying at the temples, his face was red veined and careworn and his nose had been broken and showed the effects of too much drink. His eyes were a deep blue and he wore worn jeans and a red lumber jack shirt over work boots.

Yes?

Mr. Madison? My name is Simon Meier. Im here to talk about Amy.

The man looked at him warily, then at the sun. Patrick Madison. He stood aside but did not invite them in. Buffy nodded approvingly and entered without invitation, as did Willow. Simon smiled, amused. May I come in Mr. Madison. The sun is still up?

Amys father looked. Do you need an invitation?

Simon scratched his nose. Wellmy mother would be terribly disappointed if I just waltzed in. Bad manners you know. Andit weakens my magic. He looked apologetic.

Patrick nodded. Threshold. Of course. Please, come in.

Willow looked at them in surprise. Y-you know about magic?

Patrick grimaced. Youre Willow right? You used to come to Amys birthdays?

Willow nodded. Yes Mr. Madison.

Well I was married to a witch for years, so yeah, I know about magic.

Simon sat down in the living room where Amy was seated, eating brownies from a plate, looking apprehensive. Patrick sat down next to his daughter and Willow and Buffy next to Simon.

Mr. Madison, what do you know about magical training?

Usually its done by parents. Mother to daughter, father to son. I had a lot of fights with Catherine about what she wanted to teach Amy. He snorted. She stopped teaching Amy cause she thought she was too weak.

Simon nodded understandingly. Mr. Madison, Id like for Amy to get training, to prevent her from going the way her mother did.

Madison looked wary. The local coven is a bunch of hippies. Dont believe in the real stuff. Only magic users around here are wack-jobs or in deep hidin

Simon smiled. You looked for a teacher for her.

Madison nodded, taking Amys hand. His daughter looked at him wide eyed. Sure did. Didnt want my little girl becoming like her mom. Dont know why I stopped, really. Dont know why I left her here.

Simon pursed his lips. May I? He extended a hand towards the younger man and after a brief moment of thought the blond nodded.

Simon put a hand on Madisons temple and grimaced. Urghnasty. She performed a number of spells upon you, over a period of time. Her death removed the foundation of the charms, so theyre dissipating. If you want I can hasten the process He looked a question at the other man who perked up. Amy gasped and grasped his hand more tightly.

Right now? Amy asked, her eyes were wide with worry and her teeth bit her lip.

Simon shook his head. No, sorry. Im not a very powerful magic user; I need to tap into ley lines. Can you come to Hooghwater Huis? We can go there now if you want.

Hooghwater? Wheres that? Madison looked confused.

Buffy rolled her eyes. Thats his familys name for it. We ordinary mortals call it Bankers Manor.

Madison looked surprised and a bit sad for a second. Yeah, sure. But first we need to talk about Amy.

Of course.

Whod do the teaching? You?

If she wants. I havent been able to locate any reputable practitioners myself, so the nearest teachers I know of are members of the LA coven.

You taught before?

Yes, never a full apprentice though, I used to be too busy. However Ive decided to train Willow here and I can take another apprentice at the same time without problems.

Madison looked at his daughter. Sounds good to me.

Willow had been fidgeting since the apprenticeship conversation had started.

Simon was about to say something when Willow shook her head. T-theres some things Amy ought to know before she becomes Simons apprentice. She blushed fiercely and rose, taking Amy by the hand and dragging her off. Buffy sniggered a bit and Simon looked confused. Buffy tilted her head, extending her Slayer senses to listen to what Willow was whispering into Amys ear.

His family is really old. And theyve got like this ritual, the apprentice bond and he knows when youve used magic and if you use it without permission you get punished.

Amy looked askance at her friends odd behaviour and whispered back. Yeah? So? Sounds like a smart thing to do, magics dangerous, and you saw what my mother did.

Yeah, butthe old families use you knows-spanking She looked down at her feet.

Amy blinked flushing herself. Then she grinned. Sos youre problem getting caught or _not _getting caught? Cause thats not so bad a thing. She glanced at Simons trim form.

Willow blushed furiously. AMY!

Thought so. She grinned widely at Willow and winked at Buffy who was manfully trying to restrain her laughter. Mr. Meier? If dad doesnt mind, Id love to be taught by you.

Buffy did laugh out loud at Willows mortified look. Mr. Madison scratched his head. Well, if you want to honey, sure.

Simon looked from Buffy to Willow to Amy. Amy flushed a little more, but still grinned. Then he shrugged. Very well. Amy, if you would? He held out his hand and Amy put her own against it. Once again the little white tendrils crawled over his hand, this time around Amys fingers and his and then dissipated. A very light tinge of grey was visible and Simon nodded. That grey means that youve done black magic, or at least the body has. If your mind had done so as well, considering the spells she usedit would have been black. If you refrain from doing so for a while, it will disappear.

Amy tensed and then relaxed. I feel alltingly. She winked at Willow who glared at her. Simon sighed and muttered something about teenagers. Mr. Madison gave Amy a reproving look though there was relief in his eyes.

Simon looked back at him. Shall we go? Theres still enough light to safely perform the needed rituals and get you back.

Madison nodded and the group left. We can go in my car, its large enough. Simon stated as Madison walked towards his old Ford pick up truck, which was in bad condition.

Madison looked at the old Volvo and smiled. Classic European. Nice.

Simon glanced at Buffy and Willow who rolled their eyes. See? It is a good car.

The teens got in the back and Madison rode shot gun.

So did you forge the gate yourself?

Madison nodded. Yeah. Im a metalworker. I own a construction company. He sighed. Amy winced.

Interesting. You did work on your own home?

Yeah. I made a bid for working on Bankers Manor. Couldnt do enough work, companys too small.

Amy cringed on the back seat.

Therere a lot of smaller buildings on the estate, Ill make sure you get some work there.

I dont need pity work. Madison bristled.

Not pity. Mr. Madisontheres magic in your house and in that gate.

W-what?

You have magic. Simon enunciated the words clearly. He looked at the mans stunned face and took in the amazed faces of the teens behind him in the rear view mirror.

There are many types of magic, using devices, spells, rituals, only the mind. You employ a type of magic called infusion. You cannot actively cast spells, I think, but you can infuse an item with magic, an item, object or house that you create. Its a very rare gift.

Madison gaped at him. B-but how?

Probably faerie or goblin blood.

WHAT? Amy and her father shouted in unison.

Simon winced at the noise. Mr. Madisonyou know magic is realwhy did you make us walk into your home without invitation? And why were we not surprised?

The other man grimaced and looked at Amy. Cause of the vampires.

Amy gasped. V-vampires?

Yeah. Why do you think I always want you to be home before dark honey? Or tell you not to let anyone in after dark.

Simon nodded approvingly. Very wise. And there are other magical creatures in the world, often quite well hidden very rare, or now extinct. Some of those mingled with humanity a long time ago, leaving traces of their power in the blood. Sometimes it runs strong in the family, sometimes it fades only to reemerge after generations.

Wow. Willow was stunned. So can you find out if its goblin of Faerie?

Simon looked at the Madisons, and then smiled gently at Willow. Not just to satisfy _your_ curiosity, no.

Patrick Madison grinned. Id like to know. If theres no reason not to?

None that I know off. Neither goblins not Fae are inherently evil. Just different. Id say goblin, offhand, but thats just because you work with metal. Goblins had more affinity with that.

Ah, the cold iron thing-y is true then? Willow and Amy interrupted simultaneously.

Simon sighed and Madison chuckled. Got your work cut out for you there.

Simon. Call me Simon. Im going to teach your daughter magic. Its a relationship of trust.

Patrick. Or Pat. So. This infusion stuffIs there money in that? He looked hopeful.

Simon looked thoughtful. Oh yes indeed. There will be an awful lot of work for you in the magical community, building houses, forging, if you want this known. That gate is pure genius. What were you thinking while forging it?

Madison thought for a bit. Keeping bad things out. Vamps. Keeping Amy safe. Letting me know when she came in. Amy glared at him.

I sensed something about dogs and Jehovas witnesses

Madison snorted. Theres this dog that pisses on the gate and shits right in front of it. And I like sleeping in of a weekend when I get the chance.

Amy giggled. You put up a _ward_ against Jehovas witnesses? And the Campermans dog?

Simon smiled slyly. That alone is money in the bank.

Madison laughed. Never thought of it that way.

Simon turned the car into the gateposts. The great steel hinges were set, but no gates as yet. Ill have my Estate manager contact you for help on the gates. Paid consultants fee, of course, if he has already got a supplier. But you may get the whole contract if you can make the bid.

Pat looked thoughtful. Dont think I have the forge for it. Is it a restoration or replacement job?

Simon blinked. I honestly dont know. Ill have Miller contact you.

Wont hemind? You know, me getting a job just like that?

Simon snorted. Once he knows what you can do youll have work coming out of your ears. Did Amy help with the gate? I felt something feminine.

Amy blinked. I sat with him while he forged. I used to do that when I was little, until mom stopped me.

Merged forging. Id like to observe you forging, with and without Amy there, if you dont mind. He looked eager, and Buffy noted the same expression on Willows face.

Pat shrugged. If Ive got the work, sure. Lots of people like to see me forge.

Simon grinned. I get that when I do my pottery.

Buffy and Willow looked amazed. You do pottery?

Yes. Its very soothing.

He pulled the car over in front of the house and Pat whistled. Even bigger than I thought. No wonder I didnt get the job. Havent got the men for it.

The great doors of the house opened and Miller appeared, in a suit, with a helmet on his head. Buffy jumped from the car. Heya Miller.

Miss Buffy. Miss Willow. Dr Meier. He looked a question at Simon who shrugged.

This is Mr. Patrick Madison and his daughter Amy. I will be teaching her alongside Willow.

Millers smooth face flickered in surprise. Two apprentices sir? Really?

Yes Miller, two of them. By the way, Id like Mr. Madison to act as consultant on the work here.

Miller perked up. Indeed sir? Does he know of anyone with skills in blacksmithing? I still need a suitable contractor for the gates. Only one local company has space but lacks the skill for fine metalwork.

Simon looked at Patrick. Ill leave you to sort the details. But keep in mind I need Mr. Madison to help with work on the private project I mentioned this morning. His skills areeminently suitable.

Miller looked at Madison with even more interest. Indeed sir? Interesting. Will Mr. Madison be on retainer?

MillerLater.

Miller bowed his head. Of course sir. He extracted a small business card from a case and handed it to Madison, who took it in a sort of daze. Please contact me tomorrow Mr. Madison.

Simon led the group away into the park and Amy started humming. I love this place. Mom hated it, she kept trying to get into the power here, but the lines refused to obey her.

Simon nodded absentmindedly. She didnt own them and the area is a centre for white magic. A black witch was hardly going to manage it.

Pat looked around. All this is yours?

Simon sighed. Yes. Id appreciate if youd keep it quiet.

Patrick looked at the house, then at Buffy and Willow and nodded, slowly.

Yeah. I get that. Not a word out of me.

They reached the monolith and Willow and Amy smiled. Patrick relaxed as well. Simon took of his coat and tie and hung them over his cane, which he stabbed into the ground.

Simon took off his shoes and socks and sat cross legged in front of the monolith, breathing deeply, eyes closed. After a minute or two he started to smile and then opened his eyes, rising. His eyeballs completely white he turned towards Patrick.

May I?

The younger man swallowed. Yeah. Yeah sure.

Carefully placing a hand on each temple Simon looked into the mans eyes, muttering a few words. Sweat started on both mens brows and Patrick trembled. Simon murmured a few more words, his face tightening. The blonde mans knees started to buckle and Simon moved down with him, muttering words desperately. They knelt, face to face and then Simon removed his hands. Patrick fell sideways and started vomiting. Amy rushed to his side to help him up, to prevent him from suffocating on his own vomit. Simon sat back down, cross-legged again and once again breathed deeply, closing his all white eyes. Willow and Buffy looked on, eyes wide and wary. After a few minutes Patrick had stopped vomiting and Simon opened his eyes, back to their normal green flecked brown.

Crap. Sorry for saying this Pat, but you married one hell of a bitch.

The younger man rose, wiping his mouth. Yeah. Not my smartest move. But even that had its better side. He drew Amy close to him. Willow swallowed as she noted that the broken nose was mended, the red veins and puffiness around the eyes gone. She even thought some of the grey had receded from his hair.

Amy took her fathers face in her hands and studied him. Wow. So what was wrong?

Simon grimaced. What wasnt? Your mother placed things in your fathers mind without consideration to his health and happiness. She wanted him docile and biddable, which made him apathetic. She wanted him to back off from what she did to you, which drove him away. She wanted him to be punished for leaving her, so she scrambled his mind, to let him make mistakes in his business and the whole thing drove him to drink. He shuddered. Nasty. Im rather glad I never met her.

Pat shook his head, as if to clear it. SoI didnt leave Amy cause I was afraid?

No, you were enspelled. You also just kicked your alcohol dependency.

Patrick snorted. Havent touched a drop since I got Amy back. But its good to know that wasnt me either. Never liked it in college. He hugged Amy tightly.

Simon rose after pulling on his socks and putting on his shoes. Ill drive you home.

Simon The younger man still stood shakily. Thanks. Thanks.

My pleasure and my duty.

Duty? Willow immediately inquired and Simon sighed as he pulled on his coat.

Im a senior member of the Covens. We have to rectify abuses of magic. This was one hell of an abuse. I need to find out why the Questors didnt find Catherine and stop her before. Cmon lets go, I want to be home and help with dinner.

The small group solemnly filed out of the clearing, Amy supporting her still stumbling father. Willow pulled at Simons jacket after a minute or two.

What are questors?

Simon grinned at her. I owe myself a dinner with Joyce, I thought youd hold out longer than that.

Willow flushed uncertainly and Simon put a hand around her shoulders and gave her a hug. Just teasing Willow, its an entirely legitimate question. Questors are the policemen, the investigators of the CCA. Buffys ears pricked up, Willows eyes went wide, Amy stiffened slightly.

Willow blinked rapidly. P-policemen? Investigators? C-CCA?

Hmm. Concordated Covens of America, its an organization set up around the same time as the United States. Every nation has a similar organization, though happily the Covens have always cooperated far more than the governments of the nations they live in. The Questors are not full time at their tasks of course, but when magic users act against the Coven laws theyre searched out and prosecuted. I need to inquire why that was not the case with Catherine Madison.

Amy chimed in from behind them. So normally what mo- Catherine did would have been punished

Considering the severity of the offence she would probably have been executed. Wilful possession without other than a selfish motive, malicious enchantment and personality changing spells, destroying a bodys immune system. All of those are felonies of the first grade under the Acts of Magic.

Willow gulped and Amy paled. E-executed?

Simon nodded a trifle grimly. Yes. Magic is far too dangerous and open to abuse to let perpetrators of such crimes go unpunished. And the things Catherine did werebeyond reprehensible; transferring her own spirit to a younger body, thats among the most powerful and darkest of necromancy. Most who oppose such opponents without strong magic of their own suffer death or a worse fate.

Willow looked at Buffy who had started to tremble, her eyes very wide. Simon realizing what his words had done said a word under his breath, halted momentarily and hauled Buffy under his other arm. Im sorry Buffy. I should have realized.

Buffy swallowed heavily. I knewThe spell she cast on me. I barely survived. She turned her large hazel eyes, wide with fear and wet with tears on him. I dont want to die Simon.

I know little one, I know. Ill do everything I can to prevent it.

Could you have Buffy didnt finish her sentence, looking up at him.

I could have negated the spell, if Id been able to tap into a leyline. Out there He nodded to the manapoint, I would have wiped the floor with her. If shed caught me unawaresor in townIt would have been very different.

So youre not really powerful? Willow said it rather disappointedly.

Simon smiled. No. I can barely levitate a matchstick.

Amy snorted. Thats useful.

Simon shrugged. Its what you do with the matchstick that matters. A lot of magick users believe that the most powerful should be in charge. Personally I think the most suitable, the most able should be. A mix of power and knowledge.

Amy looked at Willow before the red head asked the question. So what exactly can you teach us if you can barely levitate a matchstick?

Can you?

Can I what?

Levitate a matchstick.

Ummm. No?

Then that will be step one. And the fact that its all I can levitate does not mean I cant teach you the basics of magic. The principle is the same.

But Willow looked a trifle rebellious.

WillowIn mathematics, does the formula for calculating the area of a triangle change with the triangles size?

Willow rolled her eyes. Of course not, the oh. She flushed. Sorry. She exchanged a glance with Amy who looked a bit shamefaced as well.

Its alright. The basics of magic are the same for everyone. I can teach both of you the basics formulae and casting methods of spells. And from that I can guide you to learn by yourselves. Under strict supervision of course.

Of course. Willow and Amy chorused, rolling their eyes.

Patrick grinned at Simon. I wish you good luck with them. Youll need it.

They reached the house and Simon looked at his watch. Now is as good a time as any to give you the basics of CovensWhat were you planning to eat Patrick?

Ummmwe had some meatloaf and stuffIm not a very good cook.

Simon took out his phone and dialed. Hello love, its Simon. Can I bring in two guests? A builder I think would be perfect for the house and his daughter. Patrick Madison and his daughter Amy. Yes. Yes dear. Next time when I bring guests Ill try to warn you earlier. He laughed at something that was said on the other end of the line. Yes dearIll swing by there later. See you soon, love you.

He put his phone back in his pocket and glanced at Patrick and Amy. Youre invited, no discussion. Now lets go see if Miller knows a place where we can sit.

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Miller had installed them on comfortable couches in the library. Amy and Patrick sat rather stiffly while Simon poured the tea that had been brought in by the tall manservant.

Sowhere shall we begin? The theories and foundations of magic? Or the organization of the magical communities?

Willow looked at Amy. Amy swallowed a sip of tea. Ummmanything that will prevent us getting killed by those Questors?

Simon nodded. Laws of the Concordat. Right. Well, a little bit of history and then well do those. He took a sip of tea.

The Concordat was founded in 1773. Before that time it had been nominally under the Coven of East Greenwich. It is made up of Covens, each of which has a minimum of three members capable of doing magic. There is no maximum to the number of members. The leader of a Coven, who is elected by the magic using members, is called a Magister. The covens of the Concordat are organized under High Covens, each being contiguous with a state, territory or protectorate of the USA. They are led by elected High Magisters. Above the High Covens is the Grand Coven, which consists of all the High magisters and whomever they invite. They nominate candidates for the Grand Magister, who again, is elected by all the members.

He smiled cynically. A lot of old magic using families have a great deal of influence, people like the Warrens, Johnsons, Meiers, Abrahams, whove been around for a whilethese dynasties hold, by virtue of having been here a long time, and being white, and having a lot of magical strength, most of the political power of the Concordat. He took another sip of his tea.

Clear so far?

The others nodded. Simon continued. Now the High Magisters and Grand Magister are the trouble shooters, they have to go out and deal with people like Catherine In such cases they take on the title Questor Magister or High Questor, to keep things nice and simple. He grinned at Willow, whod taken out a pad and was taking notes.

Sometimes a coven nominates members of the coven who are magically more powerful or capable than their Magister, that person is a Questor. All Questors, even those who are also High Magisters, have to account for their actions.

He looked at Amy and Willow. And now we get to the meat of the matterwhat you should not doBasically, the laws are based upon commons sense and decency: If you dont want people doing it to you, dont do it to them.

Willow blinked. Thats it? Dont do onto another? Thats it? Sheesh.

Simon grinned. The jurisprudence is pretty complicated sometimes. Anyway, next to harming by magic, killing by magic, controlling anothers mind or body it is also forbidden to travel in time, try to raise the dead, and open a gate to hell or one of the other Outer dimensions. Sances and such are permitted, the spirit has to be willing for that,. He looked thoughtfully at Willow and Amy. Until a Mentor considers his apprentices fully trained hes responsible for their actions. So kindly refrain from getting me killed.

Willow looked stunned. R-raise the dead? W-we can do that?

Simon scratched his nose. Wellsupposedly only mystical deathsand even that would take tremendous amounts of power. More than any practitioner alive today possesses. And then the Questors would show up and kill you. If they could. And the Powers that Be of both sides would want to have a wordAnd the results would most likely be iffy anywaySo, possibly, but better not.

Willow looked at Amy. Both looked rather pale. Sosay I tried to up my grades by influencing my teachers mind? Amy began.

Depending on the level of manipulation, the penalty might be anything from a fine, through corporeal punishment, to stripping the magical talents to death. On the whole Id say dont do it Simon stated matter of factly while sipping his tea.

Willow swallowed audibly. C-can you teach us not to do that by accident?

Simon laughed. Such things cant be done by accident WillowIt takes preparation and an active will to read a mindusually.

U-usually?

I know one witch whose power ran out of controlshe heard everything. Simon finished his tea. Sometimes all a Questor can offer ismercy. He rose. We need to swing by the store, Joyce told me to bring some things. And I dont think I can tell her Ive been talking construction with you this long

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Joyce Summers was cooking when Simon came in with three giggling teenage girls waving a cucumber in each hand, a man in an old pair of jeans and lumberjack shirt and builders boots. Simon bore the most long suffering expression shed ever seen on his face. He gave her a glare.

This is the very last time I take these girls to the storeIve never been so embarrassed in my life

The man who had to be Patrick Madison grinned broadly at her and winked. Buffy, Willow and Amy merely exchanged glances and collapsed into fits of laughter. Joyce sighed and took the cucumbers from their unresisting hands. *Its good to see Willow laugh like this, she had me worried there for a while

Thank you. Now go out and let us work. Mr. Madison, can I get you anything? The three teens left, still giggling.

Patrick put a bag of groceries on the island. Patrick Madison. Pleasure to meet you. No, Ill take a walk around the place and see what needs doing. He looked at the sagging kitchen wall. Then he grinned at Joyce. And actually I think this looks worse than it is. Ill tell you over dinner.

Joyce nodded and started turning the cucumbers into salad, setting Simon to peel apples for the desert she had planned; warm glazed baked cinnamon apples with vanilla ice-cream.

When the roast potatoes and the roasted beast had been eaten, the glazed apples and ice-cream had been devoured and the kids were throwing quips at each other in the living room, Joyce, Simon and Pat settled down at the dining room table with a carafe of tea and a pad of paper.

Right, first thing, the damage really isnt as bad as it looks. Its not the foundation itself. Couple of decades ago there was this guy who built houses in Sunnydale but didnt want to waste money on making the foundations high enough, so he used wooden beams to raise the foundation wallsnow that wouldnt be too much of a problem if he used the right quality woodBut Ol man Chase was always more about money than quality. Now we can lift the wall with jacks and then we use brick to raise the foundation. We still need to do the back wall, even if the addition gets built, to support the second floor. Most of the damage is cosmetic, and the roof will need to be straightened and re coveredbut thats actually all fairly easy work. As for the foundations of the rest of the house we do it bit by bit. Thats actually fairly standard. Now about these additions He took out a folder of sketches. Joyce reached out and took them, giving Simon a look.

And when did these get drawn?

If you pay enough, even top flight architects will deliver fast work.

You got a top flight architect to design this addition? May I ask why?

Big names get approval faster.

Joyce pushed her glasses further up her nose and looked at the top right corner of the plan. She gulped. Vernon DeMars? Simon!

He occasionally likes doing things like thisand nobody ever asks him. He rather enjoyed drawing these up.

Joyce took out a letter that was pinned to the plans. A month ago. You asked him a month ago. Simonfor a global executive, you are really bad at subterfuge. And it wont work. They wont give approval faster just because hes famous.

Simon lifted an eyebrow. I have people for subterfuge. And think they will.

Youre impossible.

I bet you the choice of our Halloween costumes that this application will pass within a fortnight.

Joyce smiled. Youre on. Why DeMars?

Hes quite big locally. But wont draw too much attention.

I seeand who did you have in mind for the next addition?

Sir Norman Foster.

Very funnyJoyce blinked. Youre not joking are you?

Patrick laughed. Im not getting into this one. He rose and sauntered into the living room.

Joyce rested her chin on her hands and looked across the table at Simon.

And what makes you think you can get away with this?

Because Christopher Wren is dead, as are Van de Velde, Horta and Van Campen. That sort of cuts down the number of architects you like to one and a half, Foster and DeMars.

Joyce shook her head. Youve been looking at my book closets again

I admit it.

Youre much too good at subterfuge.

My people say I dont pay them enough. Ive had to do it myself for a while. He winked.

Simonyoure impossiblebut I love you.

There was a knock on the door and Willows voice sounded. Excuse meIve been sent to make certain all the clothes are still on and youre giving a sterling example to the young people in this house weve all become accustomed to

Joyce grinned. Were alright dear. Fully clothed too.

Willow giggled and opened the door. So ummmaybes youd like to join us? Or we could come here? Cause, you know, we understand that youve got to talk about stuff, and I know the house needs work She stopped her babble as Joyce rose and hugged her, pulling her in close. Willow made a little mewling noise and started to cry.

Its alright dearwere doing everything we can. And everything we can is quite a lot where Simon is concerned.

Simon smiled. Ill be going down to LA tomorrow to help deal with matters and my lawyers have things well in hand.

**Next chapter we turn to Xander once more**


	14. Chapter 14

**And we return to Xander. I hope the following, and the preceding, is believable. The first obvious hints at crossover are entering the story. **

_Chapter 15: And Alexander Wept_

The boy in the chair kept it balanced on its two rear legs, both his feet on the desk. It was an insolent pose yet Matthew Duncan, seeing the high cheek boned face and large sensitive eyes, the thin bony hands plucking at the smooth jeans, realized it was just that, a pose. The boy had arrived late the evening before and his case had been assigned to Matt this morning. Matt glanced at the file again. Alexander Lavelle Harris, age just sixteen, born in Sunnydale, placed in the custody of Child Protection services by court order due to physical and emotional abuse perpetrated by the father and inactivity to protect and psychological abuse by the mother. Physical abuse included beating with fists and the flat of the hand, kicking, hitting with a leather belt. All injuries on the chest and abdomen, upper arms and thighs, out of sight of casual observers.

Matt sighed. A not a-typical situation regrettably. He opened the door and the young man looked up. Matt walked towards him. Matt Duncan. Im your counselor.

The young man rose, moving stiffly and looking tired, extending his hand. Xander Harris.

Is there anything youd like to know before we begin?

Beyond what happens now?

For instance.

Not really. I looked up the regs on fosterage and child abuse before.

Matt blinked, showing surprise despite himself. Really? Why?

The young man shrank in on himself. Doesnt matter. Just some people who told me that I should aspire to better things. Cant aspire to some things.

And what was it you wanted to aspire to?

Xander gave him a dark look. It wont work ok? Theyre not married yet and havent been together long enough and even if they had been theyd still not want me. Theyre just good kind people. No reason to bother them with me. So just tell me in which home Ill get to settle and Ill go like a good little boy. He looked down. Not like I have much choice.

Matt nodded. Well ordinarily you would be placed in the LA centre, the fear being that your father might see you and abuse you.

Well, hey, he only ever hits me when I get in his way. Should be easy enough to avoid if I no longer live at home, right?

Xander, strange as this may sound, we do want the best for you.

Yeah. You know Ive got friends in Sunnydale? Good friends, people I think I matter to.

He opened his wallet, pulling out a set of pictures of himself with a red headed girl, a blond and an older man with glasses, standing in a group. Another of himself with a lovely blond woman, a dark haired man, with the blonde, the red head, and a younger brunette girl. The teens all sat on the ground and the adults knelt behind them, their spread arms around all four. For some reason there were Christmas lights in the picture and a table with the remnants of a meal was visible.

Matt took the pictures and looked them over carefully. He could see no other pictures in Xanders wallet, except one of a much younger Xander and the little redhead. None of his parents or uncles and aunts. The pictures, that Matt termed the family and friends groups showed a rather more relaxed Xander than the one before him now.

If I live in LA, all Ive got is you and the lock on my door. Id rather be beaten up than lose what Ive got. And I dont mean going back home. Id rather sleep in a tent than do that. But I want to be near them, you know. Near people to whom I matter.

Youre quite eloquent about it.

Youd be too if all that kept you from life among strangers were your own words.

I see. So your preference is to remain as close to Sunnydale and your friends as possible. These impossible foster parents, do they have a name?

Joyce Summers and Simon Meier. He took the picture of the couple kneeling behind him and the girls. This is them, thats Buffy and Dawn, their daughters, and Willow, Willow Rosenberg, my best friend, she lives with them when her parents are away.

Why them?

I started visiting them when I became friends with Buffy, couple a months ago. Well, Joyce, Joyce met Simon when theyd just moved to Sunnydale. They They take care of people. When Im feeling down or afraid or want to talk without getting yelled at or ridiculed Ill go to them and they, you know, listen. Be nice. Give me a hug. Help me with my homework instead of calling me stupid. Feed us home cooked meals. You know, stuff parents do.

Did you ever sleep at their house?

Yeah, they got a nice place, even fixed me a room. Better than the one I have...had at home.

Did you stay there often?

As often as I could get a way with it. Two-three nights a week. More if my parents were too drunk to notice.

And they never complained?

Simon told me to go to child services, or the cops, first time he saw bruises. Second time, is why Im here. He was hell angry. Never seen him angry before.

Was he angry at you?

No. Not even that I did not report the first time he noticed He just checked me over, rubbed stuff on me and checked me for permanent damage. Broken ribs and stuff. Found a couple. Bandaged me up. Hes a Doctor, got his own x-ray machine, an office and everything.

Ah, some of these might be his then. He glanced at the x-rays in the file, noticing the fact that several ribs had been broken or cracked and healed again.

Yeah, possibly.

So ideally youd like to move in with them? These the children, Buffy and Dawn? He pointed at the blonde and the little brunette.

Yeah, I go to school with Buffy, Dawn is ten. Theyre Joyces, with a guy named Hank, hes the very absent father type. Simon loves them to bits.

And they him?

Buffy complains he wont get her a Porsche. Xander smiled. But I think she actually prefers getting help with her homework and him listening to what she says. He used to travel a lot for his work, but he cut it way back when he fell in love with Joyce, and the girls too.

And they wouldnt mind you moving in with them? Sharing their parents?

Dont think so. Buffy asked Joyce if Willow could live with them when her parents are away. Dawn offered to let me sleep on her floor when she found out dad beat me.

Matt smiled. Well that sounds like they dont mind.

Yeah. Well Of course Dawn wants to use me as a partner for ballet practice, but hey, cant have everything.

Matt grinned, picking up the picture of the three teens and the man in glasses. And this? Who is this?

Thats Giles. Hes the school librarian. Hes a good guy, helps us with school too. Homework club. Hes from Britain. I think he feels a bit lonely here in the US. Not too many kids use the library, so he connected with us, cause we go there.

I see. No family youd want to stay with?

Not unless I wanted to learn everything about plumbing or drinking. Or both. He said it offhandedly but Matt could feel the pain in the young mans voice.

I see. Well youre preference is to live in Sunnydale. Want to finish school there?

Yeah. Are there places in Sunnydale I can stay?

I dont know yet. I can check. We do need to look out for your safety first Xander.

Yeah. Sure.

Is there anything you need?

Not really. Dont think you can get me what I want anyway.

Matt shrugged. Want to go to the common room?

Naah, Ill go to my own and malinger there.

Matt smiled. Very well. Ill talk to you tomorrow. Unless you want me to look in on you tonight?

Ill be fine.

Very well. Ill talk to you later Xander. The young man rose and slouched out of the door. Matt rubbed a hand across his eyes. *Crap. Kids got a substitute family all lined up in his mind. And hes right. Never gonna happen. Poor schmuck.*

The phone rang. He picked it up on the second ring. Matt.

Matt, this is Jennings. Can you step into my office?

Ive got to write a placement report Jake.

The Harris kid?

Yeah.

Need to see you in here first. Stat.

Matt sighed and rose, walking to the supervisors office. Jake, Ive got to call Dulcia at the Meier House and see if I can get Xander in there. Hes a good kid, no harm in him. He does not need a room with a lock to keep him in.

Jake Jennings rubbed his own tired face with two hands. Matt, has the kid expressed a preference?

Yeah, he wants to live with a couple, unmarried, been together less than a year. Got two daughters, eldest is a friend of his.

Joyce Summers and Simon Meier?

Err, yes?

Matt, I just got called by Governor Wilson. In person. Hes willing to push a by-law through the Capitol to get the kid with these people. A fucking by-law.

Matt sank into one of the chairs by the desk. Holy shit.

Yeah, my response. Anyway, he wants to know if he needs to. Hes got his judicial staff working on it, so has Chief Justice George.

Holy shit.

Yeah.

What the hell is happening here? Who are these people?

Matt, who were you going to call?

Dulcia Jackson.

Who is?

Oh, come off it Jake, you know Dulcia. Shes been supervisor at the Meier House for twenty years A look of enlightenment passed over Matts face. Meier? The same Meier?

Apparently. Made a call to the governors office. Governor probably sees it as a chance to profile himself on childcare and get a favour from Meier.

Holy shit. Matt looked up, suddenly a lot more cheerful. Can I tell him?

No, governor wants it under wraps if he cant pull it off without the by-law.

Damn. Kid needs the reassurance.

I can imagine.

Jake

Yeah Matt?

Something Xander said. Hes got a friend, a Willow Rosenberg. I want to look into the case, sounds like her parents are absent a lot.

If you want. Ill keep you posted on the developments on the Harris kid.

write the report.

Thanks. Ill make some calls about this Rosenberg girl

You do that. Ill get back to you.

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The clerk rose, clearing his throat. The honourable Judge William T. Menson.

Jacob and Matt rose. They were the only one in the cramped and stiflingly hot courtroom. Menson entered. He wore his grey hair much longer than most men in his profession and it moved around his shoulders in a thick, grey curtain. His short silver beard was neat and his moustache trimmed. His compact frame stretched the shoulders of his robes. His face was unreadable as he took in the near empty court room. He sat down.

Judge William T. Menson studied the case file in front of him and the faces of Jacob Jennings and Matthew Duncan.

Might I inquire where the young man in question is? And the other parties involved? He should be here since we are discussing his future.

Matt winced, handing over a letter which the judge scanned. Mr. Harris believes that since the proceedings will not take his wishes into account anyway, he might as well try and get some sleep.

Judge Menson marginally raised his eyebrows. The letter was short and to the point, saying what Matt was saying, if more politely worded. Eloquent even. Indeed? And why does he believe that?

He has given a clear preference as to where he wants to be placed and weve had to tell him its highly unlikely that it will happen. Therefore hes told us to do as we see fit, since his opinion and wishes are no good anyway. The obvious quote made the judge lift his eyebrows again those few significant millimeters. He glanced back at the casefile.

But still you want to know if you can get this young man placed with this unmarried couple who have been together for less than three months? Who have the wherewithal to support him? And where are they by the way? And the parents?

The mother is incapacitated with drink. The father is in jail, got into a fight last night and has disavowed any desire to see his son.

And the prospective parents?

Ms. Summers did not want to leave the other children aloneWe dont know why Dr. Meier isnt here

The door opened and a tall man walked in. His face was spare, almost ascetic. His high cheekbones framed a Greek nose. His hair was a warm chocolaty brown with touches of auburn, crisply cut and shot through with touches of silver, a few more strands at the temples than elsewhere.

His eyes were large and so dark a brown as to be almost black, but with a ring of green flecks around the pupil, the lashes long and thick and the lids quite heavy. His face was set in a serious expression and he was dressed in an expensive and well cut suit. Two men with briefcases and similar suits entered behind him, their very demeanor shouting lawyer.

Menson leaned back. The man bowed his head in greeting. My apologies for my tardiness your Honour, I was detained by an unexpected call.

Menson inclined his head in turn. I see. Well that is sort of disappointingIf a case of this importance it would be nice if the prospective parents were willing to put everything aside.

I informed the caller I would not be availablehis superiors did not take no for an answer.

Menson raised an eyebrow. IndeedWill this be a common occurrence?

One of his lawyers cleared his throat but was waved down by his employer.

Simon ran a hand through his hair. Permission to approach the bench your honour?

Menson nodded. By all means. Simon walked over, looking a touch embarrassed. He handed over a piece of paper. If you would call that number your honour.

Whats this Dr. Meier? A note from teacher?

No your honourI mentioned this hearing to my callerId feel more comfortable if you made this call in your office.

Menson sighed and rose. Ill be right back. He was out of the room before his clerk could call out his leaving. He fell into his desk chair, muttering to himself. He dialed the number. He noted it was Washington area. Hed worked there long enough to be glad he was no longer in the running for anything Federal.

White House switchboard, how may I help you?

Menson froze, but only for a second. Ah, yes, my name is William Menson, judge Menson. I was supposed to call this number and say Rodger dodger. His voice was composed. The girl on the other side was silent for a second.

Putting you through now sir.

Judge Menson? Bill?

The judge nodded his head in satisfaction. There could not be a whole lot of people for whom a man like Dr. Meier would be late to a hearing regarding a boy he wanted to foster. The White House switchboard had given the final clue. Indeed Mr. President. I must admit that it is a surprise to speak with you sir.

Its good to hear your voice again BillI was surprised when Dr. Meier said that you were on this caseI thought youd retired?

I was asked. After Yuki diedI had to fill my time somehow. ThisI can do good here sir.

BillI had to talk to Dr. Meier, about the Philippines. Thats why he was late. Cut him some slack on it, hes a good man.

The judge chuckled. Hell yes. Mr. PresidentHalf the kids going through this room would not be off half as good without Meier or the Meier HousesId have given him more than the benefit of the doubtHe looked horribly embarrassed giving me this number.

I dont suppose you got a picture? Hes got to be the only man I know to be embarrassed about being delayed by talking to the President of the USA. Whats the kid like by the way?

Intelligent. Abused. Underachiever. Frightened and angry. He wont see me because he thinks I wont listen.

I see Bill? Im going to get the old unit together for veterans dayCare to borrow the Lincoln bedroom?

Sir?

You heard me the first timeItll do me good to talk to someone who knows what Im talking about.

Feeling old sir?

Like you wouldnt believeSo?

Anyone else youre personally inviting?

All of themHell Bill, youre my friendsYou and Iwe fought through two wars togetherIm not going to foist you off on some secretary.

AgreedbutWe do it again after you get off. In California. Washington in November is not my idea of a good place and time.

Owen Lassiter laughed. You make it sound like a sentenceexcept here you get time off for bad behaviour. Deal BillDamn, its good talking to you. Ah crapMy deputy chief of staff is here to point at the clockSee you in November Billtake care.

You too, Mr. President. And give my regards to Libby.

Can do. Yes Matt, Im coming. There was a sound of a phone being put down and Bill Menson chuckled and rose.

He entered the courtroom, pinning the prospective foster father with a glare. The man actually squirmed in embarrassment.

Umm...Sorry about that your honour, but he insisted.

YesWell lets get on with this case. He sat down again and took up where he had left off, addressing the care workers.

Yes your honor.

No contest from the parents?

As we said your Honor, Father is looking at jail time for severe abuse. The mother is too incoherent at the moment to complain.

The judge nodded, his graying mane shifting and glinting in the light of the neon lamps and ran a hand over his short grey beard. And the lad wants it? Stay in High school? And hes sixteen?

Yes your honor.

Approved. Ill have my clerks prepare the paperwork. No further hearing needed.

Jake and Matt exchanged glances. Y-your honor?

Why are you wasting my time Jennings? This kid is old enough to go for emancipated minor status. If he wants to live with these people, let him. If they cant handle him, or he cant handle him, well hear. Because you will check up. He grinned at Simon, who looked a touch stunned. He looked down at his desk closing the Harris case file after making a quick notation in it, picking up a new folder.

Are you still here? There was amusement in the old mans eyes and his lips quirked. The child service men grinned widely and rose, extending their hands. The judge rose as well and shook them. He looked at the still stunned man and sighed. You can get up now Dr. Meier. Youre case was not prejudicedHe mostly wanted to invite me over for Veterans dayWe served in the same unit.

Simon nodded, rising and shook the judges hand. Thank you your honour.

Matt gave the judge a grateful smile. Thanks your honor.

Common sense Mr. Duncan. Common sense. He smiled. Bring me more cases like these and I might actually get a round of golf in on occasion.

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Alexander Lavelle Harris. Alexander Harris. Ward of the State of California. Xander Harris. Son of two drunks who amounted to nothing and who amounted to nothing himself. Yeah that was him. Summed him up quite well.

Xander sighed and leaned back in the chair in his small room in the Los Angeles Foster Care Centre. He glanced at the clock, noting another half hour had to pass before the people who would become his foster parents would walk in. He closed his eyes, wondering what they were like. Hed signed the papers, agreeing to the arrangement, without so much as reading the name of his foster parents, initialing the separate pages, then going straight for the signature page at the back of the five page document. The lawyer had tried to protest but had shut up when Xander said that these people at least wanted to have a child, even if it was not their own. That was all he needed to know. He should count himself lucky to get foster parents so quickly at his age and with his background.

He wasnt going back to his parents. He snorted. Not that it would be the same with his father in jail. He would not spend another night in the Centre, locked in at night to prevent him running away. Hed never run away from home, why would he run away from a place where at least he was not actively abused? His father did not hit often, but he hit hard. And the last time had been pretty bad. His ribs ached every time he moved.

But the words, the words were what hurt the most. He didnt know where he was going to live either. Chances were hed never see Willow of Buffy again. Or Dawn. Or Joyce and Simon. Or Giles. He took out his wallet and looked at the pictures again. Tears ran down his face and he desperately tried to contain them. He failed. The little bit of _real_ family he did have would be lost to him.

He had no idea how to greet the people who had volunteered to take him in. There was a knock at the door and he took a deep breath, then another. Probably Matt. Come in.

He hoped his voice sounded firmer than the squeak he felt he managed to produce. The door opened and he saw two of the people he least wanted to see. Least wanted to be reminded about. The closest thing hed had to real parents. Here to see him off. If things had been different He shook himself. It would never have happened, wouldnt happen now. They were just the loving parents of one of his best friends and hed never see them again. If he let on what hed hoped hed just be hurting them.

Joyce and Simon came in quietly, Joyce sitting on the bed and looking at him. Are you ready to leave Xander?

Xander gestured at the half-filled rucksack. Yeah. Havent got much. Just waiting for the new rents to arrive. He sounded disdainful.

Joyce reached for his him a sad and worried look in her expressive blue eyes, took both of his cold bony hands in both of her warm ones. You dont sound particularly pleased with them.

He shrugged. Cant have the ones I want. No reason why theyd want me.

Joyce winced and seemed distraught by his remark. Simon put a hand on her arm, eyes wide in surprise. Then his eyebrow quirked. He reached into the pocket of his blue linen suit and removed a folded set of papers. Xander, did you actually _read_ the document you just signed?

Xander looked at the papers the older man was unfolding. His eyes grew wide, large pools of brown in his thin, haggard face as he recognized a copy of the ones hed signed in the morning.

But youre not married! You dont meet the criteria! I looked them up! He blurted it out before he could stop himself and suddenly felt the warm motherly embrace Joyce had held him in whenever she thought hed needed it and would allow it. She drew back after a bit when the stunned stillness that had come over him faded.

His face lit up in a huge smile as he looked at Joyce and saw the look of relief on her face. He had hurt her, them, with his remarks and hed make up for it, later, but first he had to know.

How? Xander whispered in a tone filled with so many emotions it would take years to discern them all, but the total amazement and incredible joy in them were the most recognizable.

Simon shrugged. From what I understand it had to do with your age and maturity. They could have made you an emancipated minor, but since you asked to be fostered by us, the judge took the view that if you were old enough to live unsupervised for the most part, youd damn well be able to pick the people you wanted to live with. Joyce punched him lightly on the arm.

Simon, language.

Xander rose, almost pulled to his feet by Joyce. He managed a step before he drew her into a hug, buried his face in her shoulder and started to cry, soft sobs shaking him. Joyce ran her hands over his head and held him close, murmuring assurances and love, allowing him the luxury of his relief from anguish and fear. Simon dropped the bag and put his arms about both of them.

It took Xander fifteen minutes before he felt composed enough to leave. He wore a broad grin as he walked into the lobby, an arm around Joyce while Simon followed and smiled. Matt, was just coming in with a new kid and grinned broadly, shaking his hand and then Joyces and Simons. He slapped Xanders shoulder and told him to be well; hed be in touch for the mandatory check ups.

The old Volvo was parked on the centres parking lot, not out of place between the cars of the employees and volunteers. He settled happily in the back as Joyce and Simon sat up front. The huge black BMW with the two bodyguards that pulled out behind them did draw a lot of stares.

Were going to need a bigger car. Joyce said it smilingly.

A station wagon should work. Simon mused.

Not a Hummer? She said with a sly smile.

Simon gave her an affronted look. Over my dead body.

Not even to prove your manhood?

I have different ways of proving my manhood. He raised an eyebrow. I havent heard you complain so far.

Joyce blushed. Xander groaned. Yo guys! New son back here! Too much information. Man, now I really know how Buffy felt all those times. Gah! Visuals!

Joyce turned around and grinned at him. Welcome to the family.

Xander laughed. He listened to the golden oldies on the radio and the banter that passed between his new foster parents and the weariness and sleeplessness from fear and anguish of the previous three days caught up with him as the laughing voices lulled him to sleep. He woke when the car turned into Revello Drive.

He leaned back as the car stopped on the driveway. Buffy and Dawn were standing beside the house, Willow slightly in front of them.

When he got out of the car she launched herself at him. He could see she had been crying before she flung her arms around him and he was pressed back, barely managing to stay upright and swinging her in circles to prevent them both falling. He held her tightly and hugged her and stroked her flaming red hair and whispered words of comfort that they had exchanged since the age of five. She cried quietly into his shoulder, the tears that meant that she had been frightened out of her wits, the tears of loss she had cried over Jesse. He felt his own tears fall down his cheeks but felt no shame, no need to stop them, this was his family, and they understood.

Joyce and Simon had gotten out of the car and Buffy and Dawn came closer, hesitantly. Willows crying became intermittent sniffles and she drew back. She gave him a whimsical smile.

Lets go inside and cry in peace, eh?

Are you turning Canadian on me Will?

Yeah. Totally. Im into ice hockey now. Beer, eh?

Buffy rolled her eyes at the non sequiturs. Yup, theyre back. Cmon.

Dinner was more than lively. They ordered pizza this time, since it was too late to cook and they were all hungry. They sat at the dining table and talked. They would go to the Harris house the next day and get Xanders stuff, let him say goodbye to his mother, if she was sober enough to understand.

Xander started nodding off soon after dinner and was led down to his bedroom. He managed to undress and get in bed and then Joyce was there, tucking him in and kissing his forehead and that was good and he knew he could live with that and that if any guy in school laughed at him cause his foster mother tucked him in on the night she became his foster mother and his life changed, he would beat the shit out of them on the high he was on now. For the first time in thirteen years Xander Harris fell asleep knowing that tomorrow would hold no curses, abuse or pain.

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Jenny Calendar was listening to the staff lounge gossip and smiling. All the gossip circled around the fact that Alexander Harris had been fostered with the mother and new boyfriend of Buffy Summers. The boys new foster father had had a very intense conversation with the vice principal, about his kids. Jason Carlyle had been pale and wide eyed and holding onto his desk like grim death when the secretary went in to ask him what was wrong.

Jenny had seen the man come in, dressed in tweed, like RupGiles and amiable and then, changeas if something took control of him. His step became measured and his voice clipped. Walter Symes, the janitor, had been a soldier and he knew an officer when he saw one. And a ranking one. He moved like a greased snake, according to Scofield, the maths teacher. Not a man to be trifled with, according to Miss Mueller, who made Jenny feel like a three year old about to be punished and ran her German class like an old fashioned tyrant. Worse even, when Jenny did not feel like a three year old the German teacher made her feel guilty about doing things three years olds did not doand now she was babbling in her mind and she felt like Willow Rosenberg. Who had beenboth ecstatically happy and deeply sad at the same time, her othersenses told her. It was strange but it seemed as if they were getting stronger again.

RupeGiles was wearing a smile broad enough to split his face and the idiot who ran child services had been fired and a new man had taken over and already three cases, pupils, children that the school had worried about were being dealt with. Whoever this foster father was, hed pulled the State into Sunnydale and he walked around in her Othersenses as if he owned it, as if he owned the very ground he walked upon.

All that was very nice. But right now Jenny Calendar spent all her time looking at the big boyish grin on Ruperts face.

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Xander walked into the library and sat down opposing Buffy and Willow. He looked them straight in the eyes, then one after the other and they put, with different agrees of enthusiasm, their books down.

I lied to you.

Willow blinked. What do you mean Xander?

I remember everything I did while I was a Hyena. He looked down at his clasped hands on the table. Everything. He looked up and Willow and Buffy could see the anguish and fear in his eyes. He took a deep breath. And I have no excuse. For what I did. Or for lying.

Course you do. You were afraid of losing us. Not going to happen. Willow picked up her book again.

Xander blinked. Wills?

XanderIve known you since we were fiveI can tell when youre lying like that, ok? Like that time when you did not kidnap Barbie? And the time You did not put Mr. Robinsons dog in Miss Parsingtons car, and the.

Xander grinned. WillowI get it. You know me too well. He looked at the two girls. But

Xander, would you ever, ever in your life hurt people that way? Force yourself on me? Say what you did to Willow? Buffy asked gently.

No, never.

So theres no but. What happened, that wasnt you.

Yeah. Thats what Simon said.

Thought so. Xander

Yeah?

Mom? Buffy managed to look amazed and disgusted and amused.

Xanders head dropped on the table. He thunked his forehead on it several times. Dont remind meThatnowso wrong.

Buffy chuckled. And me?

Xander looked up, forehead red with his self beating. I think of you as my little sister. He deadpanned.

Willow giggled and Buffy rolled her eyes, throwing a balled up piece of paper at him.

Careful bro.

Giles came on those words and sighed. You two take far too much satisfaction out of this whole new sibling rivalry. He noted out of the corner of his eye that Willow looked sadly between her two friends, now brother and sister, before hiding behind a happy grin.

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Matt Duncan stood in front of the neat two story brick house in the LA suburb and looked at the address on the file papers. The name on the mailbox matched the one on the file, which meant there was a good chance hed get to speak to someone who knew something. He opened the neat white gate in the neat white picket fence, overgrown with climbing roses, walked down the carefully crazy paved path, mounted the three steps to the porch, noting the weathered ramp for a wheelchair and the railing. At least one of the inhabitant had, or had in the past, had trouble with climbing the porch steps and he knocked on the screen door considering the significance of that fact. He waited patiently, hearing the sound of someone walking to the door with the aid of a cane. The door was opened by a woman with page boy cut white hair, streaked with red. She wore a light blue dress, not the sort of dress he expected on a woman her age, but it suited her. Her large eyes behind horn rimmed glasses were a deep emerald green. The left side of her face sagged slightly and her left eyelid drooped, he thought as the result of a stroke. She leaned on her cane, of polished white bamboo, and looked at him questioningly.

If you are selling something, Im not interested. Her voice was dryly humorous, her tone polite if dismissive.

Matt smiled and took out his ID. Matthew Duncan, California State Child Services. Are you Mrs. Danielle Moritz?

The woman paled and leaned against the doorjamb, suddenly bereft of all strength. I-its Willow isnt it? She ran away? Or did Sheila and Ira

Matt held up a calming hand. Mrs. MoritzI dont know what Miss Rosenbergs current status is, but a week or so ago we placed a young man named Alexander Lavelle Harris with foster parents and he made certain remarks regarding Miss Rosenberg which piqued my curiosity. When I looked her up I found an old file

Mrs. Moritz sighed, looked at the bright sun behind him and stepped back. Matt wondered at the fact the lady spoke no invitation, but stepped in. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? Im afraid I dont have any soda.

Tea if its not too much trouble.

Mrs. Moritz went to the kitchen and waved him along. Do you mind? The higher stools are easier for me to sit on. Matt nodded and followed her into the kitchen, looking around.

It was a strange blend of old fashioned and new, a wood stove and oven set in a niche, a number of copper kettles of varying sizes, bunches of herbs onions and garlic, dried and drying hanging around the place, an island with high stools around it set in the middle and a top of the line cooker set in the counter.

He sat down on one of the varnished wooden stools at the island. Two yellowed drawings hung on the refrigerator, one showing a small stick figure with long red hair, another with short brown hair and a taller one with short red hair, with the words Willow, Xander and Nana Morry written neatly beneath them in childish hand. A house with a picket fence was behind the figures. The other showed what Matt decided had to be a young child representation of two children sitting on an adults lap. The lettering below them was considerably less neat and occasionally mirrored. Mrs. Moritz followed his gaze and her shoulders stiffened, then slumped, ever so slightly. Willow and Xander drew those when they were six. She and Xander were visiting for the summer holidays.

Duncan nodded. Mrs. MoritzSeven years ago you went to child services to get Willow, your granddaughter and Alexander Harris placed with you, due to physical abuse and emotional and physical neglect. Several months later you dropped your request.

Yes.

Did the childrens situation change?

No. My own. I suffered a stroke. Willow and Xander would not have gotten a nurturing parent, theyd have become caregivers. Once I stepped back, Sunnydale Child services dropped the case. They stated that the abuse was not proven and negligible and no foster parents were available in any case. Her voice was bitter. I havent seen either of the children since then; Sheila and Ira have forbidden all contactXanders parents She gave him a sad look. I imagine they werent happyand his life probably got worse.

I see. So you dont know anything about her current life?

No. Im not allowed to drive any more and my mobility was severely impaired for several years.

Wellas I told you Xander was brought to State attention and is now fostered with the parents of a school friend. Apparently Willow spends most of her time there as well, when her parents are absent

Mrs. Moritz snorted. Which is at least three quarters of the year. Since she was six.

I see. The kettle whistled and Mrs. Moritz filled a tea pot, dropping in a tea egg filled with green tea, carried it over to the kitchen island and took two mugs from hooks hanging overhead.

So what happens now? The old lady; and he could see her age now more clearly as the grief settled on her, spoke the words softly.

I go to Sunnydale, talk to Willow, Xander and Xanders foster parents. If they are willing to take her in

Anything has to be better than staying with my daughter and her husband.

You would be willing to testify as to the abuse inflicted? We have nothing but the bare bones, the files were destroyed when the case was dropped, except for the fact that it was filed.

I can. I most certainly can. In a voice leeched of emotion she told the tale of the loss of her grandchilds childhood.

**Some issues are resolved, I hope. Joyce still isnt told about vampires ( Sorry! I hope everybody will eventually agree I did it in the right place and time Please note it still not Halloween yet and Buffys still fifteenmuch to her annoyance.**

**Owen Lassiter is the creation of Aaron Sorkin and part of the _West Wing_ universe.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's note: **

**It has been pointed out to me that Simon has definite Gary Stu tendencies. I either hope to remove some of these impressions in coming chapters, or, if he becomes too annoying by general vote, I will kill the series after the re/write of the first season.**

**The following few chapters will lean far more heavily on the episode dialogue than previous ones…the reasons for this will become clear I hope. I also hope that the changes to these scripts are sufficient for this to warrant as an AU still…**

_Chapter 16: Familiar Repercussion__s and Frightened Vampires _

Joyce was rather surprised to see her youngest daughter standing in the doorway to her new study in the basement. She turned her revolving chair, the real leather one Simon had bought her despite all her complaints and to her secret delight, with a slight push of her foot.

"Dawn? Is something wrong?"

"Miss Mellowes is sick…"

* Oh dear…that's not the Miss Mellowes has a cold voice…*

Joyce held out her arms and Dawn sat on her lap. "I-its real bad…some sort of bug…"

Joyce made a quick calculation in her head. Dawn had blithely informed them at the breakfast table two weeks ago that Miss Mellowes had a stomach bug and there was going to be some substitute for a few days…

"Oh dear…would you like to send her some flowers?" *A fruit basket would not be a good idea…*

Dawn nodded. "We're going to get her one from the whole class too…"

"We can do both dear." *Simon does rather like her…I wonder if he can help with the medical side…Does she have medical insurance?*

"And the new substitute is this weird guy who smells of fish."

Joyce smiled, careful not to let Dawn see it. "I see. Can he teach?"

"He's not Miss Mellowes..."

Joyce smiled again. *Yes, but I'm not going to admit it because I'm loyal…* "Well then, I'll come to meet him tomorrow, hmm?"

"You don't have to…Miss Mellowes should be back soon."

"Well, if she stays ill for another two weeks, I do want to meet him, okay?"

"'Kay mom. Mom?"

"Yes dear?"

"Ummm…Nothing…" Dawn stood up. Wiping away a final tear.

Joyce heard the kitchen door open and soft, stealthy steps upon the floor.

Joyce sighed and then sent forth a maternal warning. Albeit a loud one. "STAY OUT OF THE CHEESE WILLOW DANIELLE!"

The loud "Eeeeep" from upstairs made Dawn howl with laughter.

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Joyce took a deep breath as she picked up the phone and pushed the memory button, * Lolly first, then Arlene, then mom and dad. No…Arlene first. Arlene's always been the most level headed of us.*

She pressed 5 and Arlene's phone started ringing.

"Dr. Arlene Ellis."

"A-Arlene? This is Joyce." *Confidence Joyce! This is your life, not theirs.*

"Joyce? Are you alright sis?"

"Yes, I'm fine, I just have some news."

"What, you gettin' hitched?" Arlene sounded amused.

Joyce giggled. "Not yet no. Simon and I've taken in a foster son and we're working on getting a foster daughter."

There was a momentary silence. "Well…You always wanted a big family…How old are these children?"

"They're classmates of Buffy."

"Well, well…I assume my foster nephew and niece have names?" Joyce noted a quaver in Arlene's voice.

"Alexander Harris, he goes by Xander. His father beat him. And Willow Rosenberg, whose parents are never there." Joyce was amazed at the vitriol in her own voice.

"Oh. Well good for you." *Disappointment? Why is Arlene disappointed by the names of Xander and Willow?*

"Arlene? Is everything alright?"

"Joyce…can I come and stay over for a bit in a few weeks time?"

"Of course…Arlene, what's wrong?"

"Joy…your Simon…he's…the Meier houses, that's him, right?"

"Yes?"

"So he'd be able to get into foster children files…adoption cases?"

"Well, not without good reason. Simon's very ethical about stuff like that. So no info just for your nature versus nurture debate." She said it teasingly.

"I know. Joy…I'll talk to you later…I-I'll be by soon."

"Sure Arlene. I look forward to it."

"Soon. Love you Joy…and thank you."

Joyce looked at the phone in confusion. She'd expected Arlene to be accepting of her choice to foster…but there had been something more there…She sighed and dialed Lolly.

"Charlotte Penkowski."

"Hello Lolly."

"Well hello Joyly…come to tell me about boyfriend's latest gift of jewelry or apparel?"

"No. I'm calling to tell you that we're taking in some foster children."

"Aha! Willow and Xander I take it?"

"Y-yes…Ummm."

"Well you always wanted a larger family." Lolly sounded quite complacent about the matter.

"You don't seem surprised…"

"Joyly…even my maternal instinct kicked in over those two. And yours is way more developed." Joyce winced at the pretend cheeriness in her twin's voice. It was not by choice that Lolly and Harry had only one child.

"Ah. Do um…Did you tell...?"

"No, I haven't told mom and dad. You get to do that." Lolly's voice was dry.

"I intended to call them after you. So…you don't mind?"

"They seemed like good kids. Dawn and Buffy don't mind I take it?"

"Heh. Dawn always wanted a big brother. They're supposed to be way cooler than big sisters. Also he can lift her for ballet practice."

Lolly giggled. "Poor Xander. So can I ask what subjects to avoid? Why are you taking them in?"

"Physical abuse in Xander's case and neglect in Willow's."

"Right. Well you'll tell me what not to joke about and when to shut up?"

"Of course. Don't I always?"

Lolly chuckled. "Yes you do. Well, I'll come and admire my new niece and nephew in a few weeks, after you've all settled in a bit, ok?"

"Sure. Bring Harry and Celia."

"I most certainly will. Take care Joyly, love you."

"Love you too sis."

Joyce hung up and took a deep breath. Now for the difficult bit…

"James Ellis."

"Dad? This is Joy."

"Joy, hello dear. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah dad, fine. Is mom near?" There was a noise as Cecilia got on the extension.

"Joy? Did he leave you?"

"Cecilia. Be quiet."

Joyce blinked. Her father spoke repressively to her mother on very rare occasions and it gave her courage. "No mom. He's moved in with us. And he's moved his work office from New York to Sunnydale. And I love him and if you make one more derogatory remark about him without having bothered to invite us over, you can go without seeing your grandchildren for a year or so. And speaking of grandchildren, we've taken in a foster son and are working on getting a foster daughter. And you'd better be nice to them because Buffy and Dawn love them."

"Joyce Marie! What do you think you are doing?"

"Living her life Cecilia, the way she wants to, like a responsible adult." Her father again.

"Jim…"

"Cecilia! We will discuss this later. I want to speak to Joyce in private."

There was a humph and her mother hung up. Her father chuckled. "Well done dear. It's long past time you stood up to your mother. I do hope by the way your dis-invitation to see the grandchildren does not extend to me? And I'd like to see my foster grand children as well…"

"Dad…I love you."

James Ellis chuckled. "I admit that it helped that your not so young man…" Joyce could hear the teasing in his voice. "is familiar to me through some of my Pro Bono cases."

"He is?"

"Yes. Remember that case about Indian lands, where the so called owner absolutely refused to give the land up? This was in the seventies."

"Oh, yes, they settled eventually, right?"

"Well settled is the wrong word…the owner refused because he wanted assurances the land would never be built upon because it was the site of a Native American massacre…and he wanted it to be remembered. There's a small monument there, with the name of the man who commanded the unit on it…"

"Oh dear…I do wish Simon wouldn't feel so guilty about things he didn't do."

"I find it admirable really. And of course he's very active in child protection and the Meier Houses have come up in my cases frequently…and I don't think a man who spends so much time and money doing good things can be _all_ bad for my daughter."

"Gee, thanks dad!" Joyce replied mock offended.

"So when do you want me to convince your mother to come and meet her new future son in law and her new foster grandchildren?"

"Well we're working on the foster daughter…so until after that is arranged?"

"Very well...I can sell her that."

"I love you dad. Good luck placating mom."

"I've got plenty of experience. Love you Joy, give my love to the kids and regards to Simon and the new kids."

"Thanks dad. Speak to you soon."

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"Five days." Joyce voice was level and cold. "FIVE DAYS!" She screamed an incoherent scream of animal frustration and threw the council letter against the wall. Buffy peeked around the door, taking in her mother's face. There was more disbelief and disappointment than anything else in her face.

"Mom? You alright?" 

Joyce sighed, sitting down. "Disappointed dear."

Buffy looked uncertain. "S-something I did?"

Joyce chuckled. "No dear…not you or any of the others…Just me."

Buffy, relieved at the sight of he mother's humour, came in. Willow and Amy followed.

"So…what's the screaming about?"

Joyce leaned back. "I lost a bet."

Buffy gave the other girls a look. "Did ya loose a lot of money?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"Simon gets to pick my Halloween costume…" Joyce groaned again and laid her head on her folded arms.

Buffy grinned. Willow and Amy giggled until Joyce glared at them. "It's not funny. Who knows what depraved fantasy he's got…I could end up dressed in a Leia Slave Bikini for heaven's sake!"

"You'd look great in it mom…Don't worry…we'll be there for moral support."

Joyce closed her eyes and sighed. "Just do me a favour…never make stupid bets like your mother just did, ok?"

Only the fact she had her eyes closed prevented her from seeing all three girls nodding their heads.

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Xander sat on a lounger in the garden behind his foster parent's house as Patrick Madison's men were digging a trench next to the back wall, to get at and repair the foundation. Pat had determined it was not the actual foundation that had collapsed, but rather a number of wooden supports of the house itself that had sagged and rotted and needed to be replaced. They were also going to extend the back a bit, to enlarge the kitchen and dining room and possibly build a deck on the new roof. French doors for all the back bedrooms were being considered. Rose trellises were to separate the balcony into individual areas.

Another group was raising the roof height of the garage loft, what was going to be Willow's room and a third was constructing the glassed arch passageway that would connect that loft to the main house.

Willow was watching the work, a smile on her face and a hunk of cheese in her hand which she nibbled on occasion.

Pat himself was building a new staircase to the basement, more solid than the slightly rickety one currently there. Joyce and Simon had offered to turn the garage itself into another bedroom for him, but he rather liked the cool basement. And the showers were closer.

It had amazed Pat how swiftly Simon had managed planning permission. Apparently showing up with a Vernon DeMars designed addition to a house and a willingness to pay a nice sum to every neighbour to stop complaints as well as the waiving of a quarter's payment for water rights to the city really speeded up the local bureaucracy. Several of the neighbours had accepted the offer of having their homes remodeled instead, which Pat was going to be working on and Simon was going to be paying for.

Simon had spent more money in the past few weeks than Xander had ever seen him do, and without a single worry. It was a strange notion. He'd known, intellectually, that Simon was rich. But he hardly seemed to live the life of a rich man, no expensive jewelry, no rolex watches, fast cars, big houses. Instead he lived quietly on unremarkable street, bought groceries that were good quality and had, indeed, bought him good clothes and all of them those phones. But he just didn't _act_ rich. At least, the way Xander imagined someone rich should act.

He sighed and shook his head at the dichotomy. Then shook his head at the fact he knew the meaning of the word dichotomy. All the tutoring, the talking, the reading, was getting to him. Joyce and Simon had very firmly told him he was not stupid, not a moron, not anything his birth parents had told him. And that since he shared classes with Willow, who was taking AP classes, and he was actually passing those, with a rising grade average even, he really couldn't be as dumb as Tony Harris had told him. He grinned. He hadn't known about the AP classes. Willow had signed him up for those and he'd just bumbled and stumbled along with her. He may not be dumb, but as Buffy said, he was fucking clueless. That remark had earned her a light tap on her ear and a "Buffy Language!" from Joyce, the tap as Dawn had been in earshot.

Life was in a word, good. He heard a soft step behind him and smelt the wonderful vanilla scent that was, to him, part of the essence of Joyce Summers. She put a hand on his shoulder as she walked around the lounger to sit next to him. She was dressed in a smart skirt, shirt and jacket and was wearing her contacts. No doubt sometime later in the evening she'd put on her glasses. Part of what Patrick's crew was doing was soundproofing. Buffy had jokingly griped a bit one evening and he'd never seen Joyce blush so much, ever. He grinned up at her.

"Good afternoon Ms. Summers. How was your day at the gallery?"

"Good afternoon Xander. Fine." She sat and gave him a look he would have described as nervous. She put her hands together in the gesture he knew meant she was uncertain. It made him feel queasy. Frightened.

"I-is something wrong?"

She laughed nervously and shook her head. "No, not at all. Ummm. It's just. I feel uncomfortable with you calling me Ms. Summers now. And you are uncomfortable with calling me Joyce; I think.

Xander nodded. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Want to try for mom? Or is that too early?"

Xander gawped. "Ummm…can I like, work up to it? Through Ms. Summers? I mean, my image of 'mom' doesn't quite match with how I think of you." He took a deep breath before continuing. "In that you actually are a mom to me, but I need to get rid of the memories before I…" Joyce put a gentle hand on his arm.

"I understand Xander. I can live with Ms. Summers for now, or Joyce." She saw him wince a little. "Ms. Summers it is then?"

"Yeah. Sorry. Again."

"Don't be sorry Xander. All this is a great change for you. I just want you to be as happy as possible, in all this…" She waved a hand in the air, looking for a word.

"Wigginess?"

"I have no idea what that means."

Xander waved his hand through the air vaguely. "All this."

Joyce gave him a mock glare. "You're already picking up all Simon's bad habits."

"Sons do sometimes take after their fathers." He said it mockingly, but with a touch of seriousness.

"Which is why Simon does not drink. At all. So that he never ever will be like that."

Xander's eyes widened. "Oh. I see. Damn."

Joyce lightly tapped his arm. "Language Xander."

"Sorry Ms. Summers."

"As an apology you can help me cook on that horrible thing Simon insists will work." She glanced with some trepidation at the camp cooker and cutting board stood underneath a tarpaulin beside the tree that held Dawn's treehouse. Xander grinned.

"I did some camping; I can get the 'horrible thing' working." He gave her air quotes and she gave him a glare.

"I was never good at camping. I'm just very glad Simon actively despises it."

"He does? He seems to like the woods and nature stuff."

"He muttered something about not being a bear in the woods when I asked him about it. He also pointed out that mankind had been moving away from living in tents for thousands of years and who was he to stand in the way of the march of progress…"

"Heh. Anyways, this is how you light a camp cooker…"

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The Fumigation party was in full swing. Xander had been shot down by three different girls and had so far traded insults with Cordelia on two separate occasions. He considered it a good night. Simon had very firmly taken him to what he called a 'gentleman's outfitter for young gentlemen' while Buffy, Willow, Dawn and Joyce had visited an old lady in LA. He therefore was not wearing a Hawaii shirt, anything too colourful or clashing and had been given very firm instructions on the treatment of ladies, with the possible exception of Harmony, who Simon had in an uncharacteristically severe manner, categorized as the walking witless. Buffy had come back from her visit both thoughtful and exhilarated. This night however she was mostly thoughtful, and was now contemplating the cockroaches on the floor. Xander joined her and Willow at the table.

"Heya little sister."

Buffy glared at him. "Xander…That's no fair, even if you are the oldest."

"It's not all about age Buff; I'm also bigger than you are."

"I'm stronger!"

"My wit is better!"

"Hah! I resemble that remark. I have daily battles of wit with vampires."

"Who have no dress sense and the strange habit of visiting the favourite hangout of the Slayer? Real smart vampires, just full of coruscating wit."

Buffy glared. "Aaugh! I give up."

Xander blinked. "Buff, you okay? I never win this easily."

"Just…" Buffy gazed at the dancing couples, hand holding couples, kissing couples and sighed. "Nothing. I need to go, see you later guys."

Xander looked after his foster sister. "What's the matter with her Wills? She in need of male companionship?"

"Xander…"

"Willow…I liked-liked Buffy. A lot. But…Since the Hyena thing…And her now being my foster sister…and the fact that in Hyenadom I had an urge to mate with her mother before her…I got over it. Very quickly."

Willow blinked. "Y-you're over Buffy?"

He shrugged. "Weird, but yeah. The notion I'd force myself on her…or mo-Ms Summers." Xander looked physically ill, ready to be sick

Willow smiled, sadly. "You can call her mom Xand. She told you so."

"Yeah Wills, I know." He reached out a hand and took hers. "But you can't. Do you ever think about what we would have been like if your Gran hadn't had that stroke?"

"Yeah. I just wish she'd lived." Her eyes teared up. "I miss her Xand. I really do."

"So do I. C'mon let's do the roach dance. I can do with a cappuccino."

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The three vampires were hot on their heels as Buffy and Angel ran, turning into Revello Drive and managing to open the door just before they were grabbed. They stood in the foyer, gathering themselves as the Three rattled the doors and windows, obviously hoping to make them nervous, force them to make a mistake.

Angel looked at the ugly deformed face in front of him. "It's alright. A vampire can't come in unless it's invited."

"I've heard that before, but I've never put it to the test." She leaned on the door, her eyes widening as she took in his bloody shirt and the wound below it. "Oh... I'll go get some bandages, just... take your jacket and your shirt off."

Buffy walked into the kitchen, very glad that the wall was still intact even if the kitchen was partially gutted. Angel looked out the window by the door one last time and followed her into the kitchen, taking in the building work. Grimacing he removed his jacket and his T-shirt. Buffy looked at him, her eyes lingering on his broad, muscled shoulders, seeing the tattoo of a griffin straddling a large "A"  
below his right shoulder. She picked up the first aid kit, her hands trembling ever so slightly.

"Nice tattoo." She exhaled, expelling a breath she was holding for various reasons, some of which she was not quite ready to own up to. "I was lucky you came along. How did you happen to come along?"

She started to bandage him, then realised that she had to clean the wound first and took the hydroxide out of the fridge. Almost Simon's first action upon moving into the house had been to vastly expand the first aid kits and medical supplies. She splashed a good dollop of hydroxide on some sterile gauze kept in the large aid kit and then applied it to the wound. Angel hissed. His skin was cool underneath her fingers and she hoped he wasn't going into shock. It was amazing what medical knowledge you could pick up if your mom's boyfriend was a doctor.

"I live nearby. I was just out walking." 

"So, you weren't following me? I just had this feeling you were." She gave him a look she hoped wasn't to obvious of her hope that he felt just slightly more for her than a convenient means of vampire disposal.

Angel smiled. "Why would I do that?"

Buffy resisted the urge to stick her tongue out or roll her eyes. "You tell me. You're the Mystery Guy that appears out of nowhere. I'm not saying I'm not happy about it tonight, but... if you are hanging  
around I'd like to know why." She had finished with the peroxide and quickly bandaged the wound, running the roll under his upraised arm and trying not to touch him too much as the nearness of him brought a little wobble to her knees.

Angel looked down at her, his eyes hooded. "Maybe I like you."

Buffy swallowed, hoping he didn't notice. "Maybe..." *Oh please! Yes!* 

Angel smiled at her and she smiled back. Buffy heard the door open and the low voiced of Joyce and Simon. She headed into the foyer quickly, frightened that the Three were still outside and might harm them. Simon had opened the door holding it for Joyce, and looked surprised when Buffy pulled her mother inside quickly, closing the door quite forcefully with her foot, while hugging Joyce.

"Hi mom!"

Joyce blinked at her daughter in surprise. "Hi yourself! What are you doing? Not that I mind of course…" 

Buffy had let go of Joyce and gave Simon a look. "There's a lot of weird people outside at night..." 

Joyce looked fearful. "Oh dear…anyone dangerous? Simon, we should call Willow and Xander…I'll call Susan and ask her if Dawn and Janice are alright." She went towards the kitchen where she usually phoned. Buffy moved quickly to intercept.

Buffy spoke a bit haltingly. "I-I'm not sure...I just feel better with you safe and sound inside. You must be beat."

Joyce blushed a little glancing sideways at Simon. "A bit. We're a little gallery. You have no idea how much..."

Buffy interrupted her mother, spotting the discomfort. *Ok…At least part of the late night at the Gallery had been spent elsewhere doing non gallery stuff, but…not going there. Oh god…I hope it was elsewhere.* "Well, then why don't you go upstairs and get into bed, and Simon or I can bring you some hot tea?" She gave Simon a pleading look, but the man's gaze was speculatively turned towards the kitchen.

"Aww honey, that's sweet!" Joyce's eyes narrowed and then she spoke, her voice just a touch suspicious. "What'd you do?"

Buffy tried her most innocent 'what ever are you talking about look'. Sometimes it worked. "Can't a daughter just be concerned about her mother?"

Angel came into the living room, standing behind Buffy. Joyce gave him a searching look, stiffening slightly.

"Good evening. I see you finally decided to come in. I imagine the garden gets…uncomfortable after a while." *Well, well…so that is him in the light of…well my lamps, but anyway…hmmmph. Much too old for her…But I can see the attraction…another broody one, like the Thurman boy…Why can't she pick someone nice and cheerful?*

Angel blinked, surprised. "Hi. Umm? Yes?" *She saw me? Did Buffy see me? Oh boy…If looks could kill…I would be dust…*

Buffy groaned inwardly. "Oh! Okay... Um... Angel, uh, this is my mom and her boyfriend Simon. Mom, Simon this is Angel. Uh, we ran into each other on the way home."

Angel tried to meet the penetrating stare of Buffy's mother and the intimidating glare of the man beside her as they crossed their arm in synchronous movement. He managed to stammer a greeting. "Nice to meet you."

Joyce looked slowly upwards from his feet, taking in the torn t-shirt, her eyes widening slightly. "What do you do, _Angel_?" It was clear from her looks and the tone of her voice she did not approve of her daughter's friend. Or his name.

Buffy tried to intercede before her mother went ballistic. "He's a student."

Joyce gave her a disbelieving look, both her eyebrows raised and Buffy winced.

"Uh,first year community college. Angel's been helping me with my history; you know I've been toiling there."

Joyce gave her daughter and Angel a warning glare. "It's a little late for _tutoring_. I'm gonna go to bed, after I call Susan…and, uh, Buffy?" She started up the stairs, giving her eldest daughter a significant look.

Buffy nodded quickly. "I'll say good night and do the same!"

Joyce looked back down at her daughter and nodded. "See that you do."

Joyce gave Angel another hard look and spoke to him. "It was nice to meet you." The unspoken 'finally' made him wince. "Are you coming to bed Simon?"

"I'll just let Angel out dear. Have a word with him about his…studies. While I wait for Willow and Xander to come home. No, on second thought I think I'll go get then in the car. I'm sure Angel won't mind waiting a bit…" Angel and Buffy both winced and Joyce suppressed a slightly wicked smile. *It's nice actually being able to share the parenting.* 

Once Joyce was safely away Buffy rushed to Simon. "Simon, there were three Vamps out there… Really big bad vamps. Angel saved me, but he got wounded. But Willow and Xander…they're out there alone.

Simon drew in a breath. 'We'll go get them." He glanced at Angel, taking in the size of the cut under the shirt. "Did you clean that?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Like you showed me."

Simon nodded at Angel. "There's a spare bedroom downstairs. You'll be staying there."

Angel opened his mouth; then shut it at the glare he got. "Now Buffy and I will get Willow and Xander. Don't sleep in…_Xander's_ room by accident, hmmm?" He gave both of them a glance. "It's a bit late for…_tutoring_, as Joyce said." Buffy blushed. Angel looked exceptionally uncomfortable.

Simon called up the stairs. "I'm just going to get Xander and Willow in the car love." There was a soft yodel from upstairs that he and Buffy interpreted as Joyce under the shower agreeing. Simon opened the door for Buffy and they left together. Angel stood looking at them through the front window, rather forlornly.

Willow and Xander were a touch surprised when Simon drew up beside them, and even more surprised when he relaxed visibly when they got in. The drive home was faster than normal and Buffy and Simon were silent until they got home, then quickly led the other two into the house. Angel was seated on the couch, brooding. Simon gave Willow and Xander a quick hug each, with a kiss on her forehead for Willow. Angel was about to say something when Simon ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"I'll take you downstairs and have a look at that wound." The younger looking man looked ready to sulk but gave in.

Simon led the two younger men down the stairs, picking up his doctor's bag and Xander went into his own room. The spare room was sparsely furnished with an old camp bed that had been in the garage loft a rickety nightstand and a bare bulb. Simon waved Angel inside and closed the door behind them.

"Not the most comfortable of places, but better than ending up as the bitch in a game of tag with the Three." Angel blinked. Simon gave him a dry smile. "The description Buffy gave me was fairly clear, together with catching a glimpse of them while in the car. I should have made the connection earlier..." Simon sat on the bed and gestured for the other man to sit.

"Do you have a tattoo on your back? Griffin straddling an A?"

Angel's eyes widened. "You know who I am."

Simon shrugged. "Of course you've been hanging about and my bodyguards have you on film. And I think I once saw you in Chicago, trying to catch a rat. And in the words of my children, can I say 'Eeeew'?"

Angel snorted in spite of himself. "They do it better."

"I know. Now, what is the vampire with a soul doing on the Hellmouth stalking my daughter?"

The glare he directed at the vampire made the half demon visibly swallow. "I was told to come here."

"Oh great. The Powers that Be?"

"Yes."

"Your choice?"

"Yes."

"Any other reason?" Simon's voice was suggestive and the vampire flinched.

"There may be some…attraction."

Simon opened a file he took from his bag, took a paper from the file. "This the alias you're using for the rent and backstory? And yes, we know where you live."

Angel took the paper and read it. "Yeah…your people are good, I never noticed them."

"You're over confident. You claim to be twenty-two?" He looked the vampire over. "That might just work...In bad light…You had pretty rough life before you were turned…lots of wine and song, not so much of the women."

"Hey!"

Simon pursed his lips. "I'd say you need to get more sun as well, but that would be sort of counterproductive…"

"Look…"

"You've not really done very much in the past fifty years or so…I'm rather disappointed. You looked to be on your way to get yourself in somewhat better shape after World War II…I suggest you find a good psychologist. Marcel Ovrion might be interested; I don't think he has a vampire among his clients…plenty of victims, but no remorseful perpetrators. I know a few more who might be willing, but none closer than him."

"What the hell are you doing?"

"You have feelings for Buffy…Buffy has, at the very least, a teenage girl's interest in a handsome man…I'm trying to make you presentable and acceptable...as far as that is possible."

Angel gave him an astonished look. "Y-you don't mind?"

Simon muttered some choice words under his breath before leaning against the wall behind him.

"Of course I mind! Vampire with a soul in love with my oldest, fifteen year old daughter, who is also the Slayer. And looks several years older than she and poses as a student. Badly. You already noticed Joyce is not pleased."

Angel again squirmed under his gaze. "That was pretty clear, yeah."

"But…you saved Buffy's life…she likes you…and I will do my utmost to keep my children happy…within the bounds of reason. Even if that includes making sure you shape up. Understood?"

Angel nodded. "Yes."

"And if you hurt her…you will feel my wrath." He spoke the words in a pleasant warm tone that made shivers run down Angel's back.

"Y-yes…"

"Very well." Simon looked around the sparsely furnished room.

"We'll put up some black out curtains and you can stay here until tomorrow. I don't want you out there with the Three around."

"How do you know them?"

"They killed some friends of mine."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, you didn't make them, nor did any of your Childer." He took a deep breath. "And you saved Buffy. For which, again, you have my thanks. But I have three words for you, which I want you to consider very, very carefully. Age of consent. Remember those words, Mr. O'Connell"

Angel started. "You know…"

Simon got up and looked Angel. "We chased your Sire from New York, before that we chased her from the Virginias. Do you honestly think that if I know the real name of the one you call Darla, I don't know yours? Or your Childe's'? Or your Grandchilde's? My family have been the Guardians of the East for generations." He leaned forward and looked the vampire in the eye. "Remember Mr. O'Connell, Age of consent, oh and emasculation…Remember that as well."

Angel sagged back against the wall, eyes wide, face blanched.

"And you might want to tell Buffy what you are before she finds out by accident." He closed the door softly behind him and went upstairs.

Angel sat looking at the closed door for several minutes before shrugging out of his jeans and jacket and going to sleep. Or at least, trying to.


	16. Chapter 16

**Once more a lot of dialogue from the episode 'Angel', I hope the original work makes up for it.**

**Please keep score on the Simon front; I did not get into this business to write a Gary Stu.**

_Chapter 17__: Parental pillow talk and embarrassing Family secrets _

Joyce was sitting in bed reading when Simon came in. He looked worried. She'd called Susan and been assured that Dawn and Janice were both fine, even if they seemingly had wanted to eat their weight in brownies. She'd tucked in Willow and Buffy and checked in on Xander and had heard soft voices in the room next to her foster son's and now she wanted answers.

"He's still here." Simon winced. She'd not even given him the chance to greet her and her voice was cold. And she was not wearing her glasses. *Oh shit.*

"He says name is Liam O'Connel, born in Ireland, twenty two years old, reads history at UC Sunnydale. I'll let Buffy tell you how he got in here. And why I let him stay. I'll only say he's wounded and she might not be here if not for him."

Joyce glared. "Simon…"

He raised a hand. "It's her tale to tell. Sorry Joyce." She was about to get up and he put a hand on her shoulders. "And you're far too upset and tired, and so is she. Tomorrow. You'd say things you'd regret. And she's probably asleep…"

She glared some more and turned her back to him, book firmly in front of her eyes. 

"And we had a bit of a historical discussion regarding the age of consent."

The book dropped, slightly. "Did he get the point of the discussion?"

The mattress moved as Simon got in beside her. "I think he got the general gist of the argumentation."

Joyce dropped the book. "He's much too old for her."

Simon tentatively extended an arm and after a short hesitation she moved in and settled against his chest.

"Many young girls feel attraction for older men, teachers and such."

Joyce huffed. "It's not the same thing. At all, and you know it, and she's not even sixteen."

"Oh, I agree." He scowled blackly. "One wrong move from that boy and you'll get to see first hand why I always carry my cane."

Joyce smiled into his shoulder. "Is that also why you're willing to let him sleep here? "

"I could handle him. And Willow is sleeping in Buffy's room. I've no idea what she was planning to do with him."

Joyce snorted. "Considering the fact she looks at him as a dog looks at a bone…I can guess."

"Do you really think they've advanced that far? I'd say it was more puppy love than anything else, at least on her part."

"I suppose you're right. And Buffy is smart enough, and heaven knows skilled enough, to keep herself safe. She's had far too much experience at fighting." She said the last regretfully. "I do wish she wouldn't go for the bad boys each time."

Simon snorted. "He may surprise you and be less James Dean than you think. And we will do our best to keep her safe when she can't."

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Buffy faced her mother the next morning in the dining room, Angel beside her. Simon had carefully prepared them breakfast and laid the table and firmly closed the door behind him, to supervise the breakfast of the other three teens.

Buffy looked at the towel covered basket with toast and bagels and swallowed heavily.

Joyce gave her a look. "You were fighting."

Buffy winced and spoke apologetically. "They jumped me?"

"Did you know they were there?" Did you call for help? Simon? The police? Me?"

"There wasn't time…"

"Not even when you got here, to call Willow, Xander, or me to say they might be in danger?" This time Joyce's glare was obvious and Buffy blinked her eyes widening in sudden fearful realisation. *Oh crap. This isn't just about _me_. This is a feed-Dawn-larvae moment.*

"They could have been…" She whispered before her mother gave her a dark look and interrupted her.

"Yes. They could have been. I will see you after school young lady." She looked at her watch. "I have to go; I've got an important meeting with a dealer. I will speak with you later Mr. O'Connell. But I do want to thank you for saving my daughter." Angel nodded.

"It was a great pleasure. And I'd like to thank you for your hospitality."

"Just make sure you eat something Mr. O'Connell. You're far too pale." Angel nodded again, looking put upon.

She gave Buffy a level gaze. "Don't forget this afternoon, Buffy." She rose, kissed her daughter's hair and left, anger visible in her stride.

Buffy winced. Angel looked at her questioningly, but she shook her head. "Maybe later."

"Buffy…there's something I need to tell…"

Buffy sighed. *And here comes the let's be friends speech…I can so do without that.*

"I really have to go; I'll talk to you this afternoon." She winced again. "See ya later!"

Angel blinked at the empty breadbasket. Buffy had managed to empty it even during the few minutes the conversation had lasted. He shook his head. He'd talk to Buffy in the afternoon.

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'Library CLOSED for filing. Please come back tomorrow.' The sign said. Not that any of the students who passed it cared; it was miracle that any of them could find the place, at least that's what Jenny thought. It was one thing she agreed with Rupert on. The younger generation did not read enough. Even on the internet. But it was annoying that the place was closed. She wanted to borrow the book on German witches she'd seen. It was quite rare and she'd been amazed a small library like the Highschool had it. And of course she could just see Rupert's disdainful expression as she took it out. His rational mind could never understand the truth behind it. * A good thing he doesn't know about the romance novel I've got in my bag.* Jenny flushed, shook herself and passed by the library. She'd come by again tomorrow.

Buffy grabbed the crossbow with eager hands. "Cool! Crossbow!" She hefted it easily, taking not of the bolts. "Huh. Check out these babies. Hmm. Goodbye stakes, hello flying fatality. What can I shoot?" She ran the bolt she had picked up through her fingers and twirled it.

Giles sighed looking at the packing crates in the room and the linen clad figure of Simon who was standing by them, checking the various labels. Xander was using a crowbar to lift some lids and Willow was sitting on one of the crates, kicking her feet and looking at the Watcher and his Slayer. "Um, nothing. The crossbow comes later." Simon smirked. 

Giles took the crossbow from her and put it back. Buffy pouted in disappointment.

"You must first become proficient with the basic tools of combat. Beginning" Giles enthusiastically picked up two quarterstaffs, ignoring Buffy's obvious boredom."...with the quarterstaff. Which, incidentally, will, uh, require countless hours of vigorous training. I speak from  
experience.

Buffy glared at the quarterstaff in her hand. "Giles, 20th Century? I'm not gonna be fighting Friar Tuck."

"You never know with whom or what you'll be fighting." Giles put on his head pads. "And these traditions have been handed down through the ages. The Watcher picked up his own staff. "Now, you show me good, steady progress with the quarterstaff, and in due course we'll discuss the crossbow. Put on your pads."

Buffy laughed. "I'm not gonna need pads to fight you."

Giles gave her a tolerant if complacent look. "Well, we'll see about that. En garde!"

Giles thrust several times at various parts of Buffy's anatomy. She parried them all. She took the offensive, smiling slightly, pushing his staff to the floor and punching him in the face.  
She twirled around hum, the edge of the staff along his arm, then striking his back and again to knock his legs out from under him. The watcher fell quite heavily onto his back. Buffy stood over him, smiling slightly.

Giles groaned, slightly stunned. "Good. Let's move on to the crossbow."

"Dr Giles…with your permission I'd like to spar with Buffy." Simon had picked up his cane and gave Buffy a flinty look. The girl blinked, as did her Watcher. Xander and Willow looked equally as surprised.

"I have no objection? Buffy?"

"Do I still get to shoot the crossbow?"

"Of course."

"No problemo then. C'mon Simon, I get to kick your butt." She grinned at him 

Simon held his cane lightly, the silver head away from him, the weapon a lot shorter than Buffy's staff. He held it with quiet competence. Buffy slashed at him and he parried with the head of the cane, giving an odd twist and pulled down, dragging the quarterstaff with him, Buffy automatically resisted with her superior strength and he released the cane, her own force making her stumble back, forcing Buffy off balance. He stepped after her immediately and she felt a slight pain in her chest, over her heart and there was a tiny bit of ink on her shirt. Simon was holding a pen in his other hand, his face cold and hard. Buffy swallowed. If that had been even a small knife…

"You're a Slayer. You're faster, stronger, more naturally inclined to combat, instinctively skilled with most weapons. I'm a fifty two year old man, admittedly in good shape and trained in martial arts…but _you should've wiped the floor with me_…And yet I got to you with the simplest trick in the book. Do you know why?" His voice was angry.

Giles opened his mouth but Simon waved him down. "Shut up, I'm talking to my daughter." Giles shut his mouth, eyes wide. Buffy, Willow and Xander blinked. This was the first time the man had staked this claim and only Buffy saw the look of wilted disappointment on Willow's face. *'k…Simon going all paternal…but _I_ have a dad already.*

Buffy raised her chin defiantly, opened her mouth, closed it, nodded to herself and finally spoke. "I was over confident. I'd defeated Giles. I assumed I could do the same to you. I assumed I had the reach on you because my weapon was longer. I assumed you would use your cane like I did my staff. I assumed you wouldn't know how to handle my strength and speed." Her brow crinkled. "How did you know?"

Simon's face became even bleaker. "I used to spar with a young woman called Nikki Wood. She did wipe the floor with me… You can read about her in Bernard Crowley's Watcher Diaries." Buffy blanched and he dropped the pen, stepping up to her, dragging her into a hug, his hand giving her hair a fatherly caress. "Please…" He whispered the words painfully and Buffy wondered just how many friends, colleagues he had lost since he had joined the fight. He had been fifteen too, she remembered. "Please be careful."

Buffy nodded into his shoulder. "Yeah. I will be."

Simon stood back, his hands on her shoulders. "Here endeth the lesson." He glanced at Giles who stood looking at the two of them strangely. "Dr. Giles, most of these cases apparently are a delivery from the Watchers' Council, but the one at the end contains copies of Journals written by my forebears as well as a brief on the Order prepared by my Chief Archivist, Dr. Worthing."

Giles smiled in acceptance. "Ah, excellent. It will be good to compare the notes to what the Council knows. Dr. Worthing is fully briefed on the supernatural?"

Simon snorted. "Earnest Worthing? I would think so." He looked at the three teens. "I'll see you this afternoon. I need to get back to work." He scowled blackly. "After I swing by Giselle's." All the teens grinned at that.

Joyce was having lunch at the French inspired lunchroom with her buyer, a rather debonair handsome man called Duncan Macleod, who'd picked her up from the house, leaving Willow and Buffy practically drooling at his physical assets and Simon was showing signs of considerable jealousy. "Don't forget your mother wants to see you Buffy."

Buffy winced. Willow looked at her questioningly and Buffy mouthed 'later'. The Slayer picked up the crossbow and started looking for a target.

Buffy and Willow were standing by the latter's locker, getting ready to head for home when Willow gave her almost older sister a look. "So spill."

Buffy winced again. "Mom is…upset."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Well duh. We all know that. And we all know that Angel spent the night in one of the spare rooms. But I've seen her scold you before, so what is all this about?"

Buffy sighed, shrinking in on herself. "She's angry because I didn't let you and Xand know about the Three. Not that she knows they are the Three…but they're a gang and they were chasing me and they were in front of the house, and I should have called her or Simon to pick you up immediately."

"So? Apologize."

Buffy winced. "Ahh…endangering siblings? That's spankworthy Wills."

Willow blinked. "M-mom spanks?"

"Oh yeah. I've been on the receiving end of the slipper three times." She winced again. "This afternoon will make four."

Willow swallowed. "Ummm…aren't you a little old?"

"I think mom would spank me if I were forty if I did something like this again." Buffy said morosely.

"Can't you do some chores? Grounded?" Willow was getting quite agitated Buffy noted.

"Wills…It will be over after this, no grudges, no anger, just a swift, if painful encounter between my butt and her slipper." She sighed. "And the problem is…mom only picks things to spank me for that I feel I deserve spanking for."

"Wha?" Willow was singularly articulate.

"I feel guilty. I _should _have thought of you and Xand immediately. Angel was not that badly wounded. You two, mom and Simon were in danger. I was self indulgent. After his afternoon…It will all be…"

"Behind you?" Willow said with a smirk.

Buffy scowled. "Ha ha. Very funny. But yeah, it's like a penance. No recriminations afterwards."

Willow nodded thoughtfully. "It's not as if she does it often…Does she?" She was worried again.

"Four times in fifteen years? Don't think child services are going to make anything of that."

"Last time was?"

"The burned down gym. There were people inside. Not just Vamps. Mom never bought the mice and electrical wires thing."

"Ah…sort of spankworthy. And the others?"

Buffy groaned. "Wills! Is there a particular reason you want to discuss my bare butt mambos?"

Willow gave her a wide eyed look. "N-no reason. I-I'll just..." She swallowed again. "No recriminations?"

Buffy grimaced. "Well…there may have been some problems about the gym burning-downy and resultant arrest thingies that were not _quite_ resolved by the spanking…but yeah, mom believes in crisp punishment and swift forgiveness."

The redhead's face was thoughtful as they walked outside to the bus. "No recriminations. I can live with that, yeah." Buffy gave her near-sister a very thoughtful look.

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When Dawn came into the kitchen in the afternoon her mother was there, looking unusually grim, with the strange man she'd barely seen in the morning. The man was pale and wore dark jeans and one of Simon's shirts. He was looking at her mom as if she was about to flay him alive, like that judge in the painting her mom had tried to keep her from seeing in the museum. He definitely looked…hunted. The only people who got that look when facing her mom were the older boys Buffy had sometimes brought home back in LA. Dawn felt more cheerful already. He looked rather cool and the evening was now bound to be interesting.

"Hello! I'm Dawn. Who're you?"

"Hello, I'm ummm" Remembering the pointed look Buffy's mother had given him Angel decided to go with a different option. "Liam. Liam O'Connell. Most people call me Angel. You're Buffy's little sister?"

"Nope."

"You're not?" Joyce swung round glaring at her daughter. She was in no mood for Dawn's games.

"Nope, I'm, lots of people's little sister. Buffy's the eldest, then there's Willow and then there's me. Buffy says that still makes me the so-not-a-baby sister. Xander is older than all of us, but he acts real young. And Amy's been around a lot too, she misses having a mom." Angel noted the stunned and then happy and proud expression on Joyce's face as her daughter said that.

"I see."

"Are you Buffy's boyfriend? The one who she writes about in her diary? The A-Hunk?"

"Dawn Florence Summers!" Joyce's voice rang like steel and Angel was very glad he was not on the receiving end of that at this time. "What did I tell you about reading your sister's diary?"

Dawn wriggled on her stool, looking anxious. "Ummm…not to read it ever again? 'cause it's a private thing?"

"Yes. You'll apologize to your sister. And you're grounded for a week. And no donuts. And you get to do Buffy's chores while you're grounded."

"MOM! That's not fair!"

"You're right. Two weeks."

Dawn opened her mouth but suddenly felt a large finger on her mouth. Liam shook his head at her. "Do na say it lass. Ya'll only get into more trouble." Angel blinked into the large mournful eyes. *God, she's like Kathy.*

Dawn nodded sadly. Joyce looked between the two of them and sighed. Obviously there was more to Mr O'Connell than just an interest in Buffy. The way he'd interceded on Dawn's behalf showed considerable experience at dealing with younger sisters, or siblings. Joyce pretended not to notice he slipped Dawn his donut to eat with her hot chocolate. Maybe Buffy hadn't been that wrong…

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Buffy walked into her mother's room gingerly. Joyce was sitting on the stool in front of the roll up desk that served as depository for papers and knick knacks. She was looking decidedly grim.

"Well?"

Buffy shifted from foot to foot, looking at the floor. "I am sorry. And I have no excuse." She did not look up.

Joyce nodded, thoughtfully. "I rather hoped I'd never have to do this again."

Buffy snorted. "You've got a more angelic image of Dawn than I do then."

Joyce smiled. "True." She bent over to pick up her slipper and Buffy winced in trepidation.

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"Mom?" Buffy sounded uncertain and a bit teary. She'd managed to stifle the worst of the yelps but her mother had a good strong right arm. * Gotta ask Giles if Slayer strength is hereditary. I wonder if mom was a potential? Also ouch-y to the max.*

Joyce sighed hugging her. "I love you honey. But I did warn you."

"It's ok mom…I sorta deserved, even if it is rather embarrassing. It's just…Wills called you mom today. Straight out. Asked if you really spanked." She gave Joyce a teary grin while rubbing her bottom. *Man, I have to remember never ever to endanger any of the others again. She didn't even spank that hard for the Gym.*

Joyce groaned. "Buffy…"

"I told her yes. And she was okay with it." Buffy spoke hastily. "As long as it ended there…no recriminations." She looked a bit anxiously at her mother. "That's right isn't it mom?"

"Are you sorry? And I don't just mean about the spanking."

"I feel stupid. I completely forgot that Wills and Xand might be in danger. Or you and Simon." She winced a little as she moved. "And I can assure you that is not likely to happen again. And yeah I'm real sorry." She gulped. "If anything had happened…"

"Then you _have_ completely understood. And no recriminations."

"I get the feeling Wills parents never let things drop. Mom?"

"Yes dear?"

"What you did for Xander…"

Joyce smiled, kissing her eldest daughter's temple. "We're already on it dear." Buffy hugged her mother again and then gave her a thoughtful look.

"Umm…Hypothetically…if I ever manage to endanger Xand, Wills or Dawn…"

"Hypothetically? You'd be grounded for a month or twelve. And you'd need pillows for a week. At least."

Buffy gulped. "Better not do that then."

"Very wise dear. Now there is a gentleman who's been recovering from a wound in your room."

"In my room?" Buffy squeaked.

"Yes dear…I'll be downstairs keeping Willow out of the cheese…"

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Buffy walked into her room into her room. She closed the door and looked around.

"Angel?" 

"Hey."

"Why are you sitting in the dark?" She turned on her desk lamp. "Mom told me to tell you you're expected at dinner. No excuses."

Angel nodded a touch nervously. "She gave me the same message when she came home. Ummm. Are you alright…I heard noises and Willow mentioned something about the bare butt mambo...''

Buffy winced, flushing. "Errr…not really something I want to talk about, except Mom has a very firm right arm. I will definitely never forget to warn others of possible danger." She winced again, and then perked up.

"So! What'd you do all day?"

"Uh, I read a little. Your mom and Dr. Meier have some interesting books."

Buffy looked over to the dresser where her diary was. * Was. Not. Lying. In. Its. Usual. Place. Oh. Crap.* 

"And just thought about a lot of things. Buffy, I..."

"My diary? You read my diary?" Buffy scuttled over to the dresser and put the felt covered book in a drawer, locking it. "That is _not_ okay! A diary is like a person's most private place!" Buffy walked back to Angel, glaring at him. "I... You don't even know what I was writing about! 'Hunk' can mean a lot of things, bad things. And, and when it says that your eyes are 'penetrating', I meant to write 'bulging'."

Angel smiled, just ever so slightly. "Buffy..."

Buffy ploughed on regardless. "And 'A' doesn't even stand for 'Angel' for that matter, it stands for... 'Achmed', a charming foreign exchange student, so that whole fantasy part has nothing to even do with you at all..."

"I believe your mother straightened up in here, she may have moved your diary then. I spent all day on the couch downstairs or in the guest room, reading. I didn't read it, I swear." * And I'm not going to say that your sister did…She can do that herself.*

Buffy gave him a look he'd last seen when he'd swerved to miss a deer in his headlights. He gave her an encouraging smile.

"Oh! *Babble mouth Buffy…He's definitely not impressed. Not interested either…* "Oh." She looked at her feet.

Angel decided he needed to clarify his position. "I did a lot of thinking today. I really can't be around you. He took a deep breath and used a finger to lift her chin so he could look her in the eyes. "Because when I am..."

Buffy shook of his finger and looked down again. "Hey, no big. Water... over the bridge, under the  
bridge..." She swallowed a little heavily.

"When I am all I can ever think about is how badly I want to kiss you." He smiled a little. "And what your parents would do to me if they caught me doing that."

Buffy wasn't listening and he thought seeing her so despondent and uncomfortable was both the cutest and the saddest thing he'd ever seen."...over the dam... Kiss me?" Her sudden take eyes wide and hopeful made Angel's lip twitch, his heart soar and his stomach flip.

"I'm older than you, and this can't ever... I better go. I shouldn't have stayed here last night and today…"

Buffy held him back as he walked to the door. "H-how much older? I mean, Simon's like fourteen years older than Mom…"

Angel tried to pass by her again. "I should..."

Buffy stepped closer to him, getting deep into his personal space. He could smell the Slayer, her intoxicating blood, but mostly he could smell the wonderful smell of Buffy. "...go... You said..."

Buffy reached up and grabbed his face, kissing him. He kissed her back. They kissed again. They kissed passionately. She put her arms around him. The kiss went on…and on and then on some more and Buffy ran her hands over the fine fabric of Simon's dress shirt and started to realise why her mother kept running her hands over him whenever he wore them. If his muscles felt anywhere near as good as Angel's… Angel suddenly pulled back and looked away, breathing heavily.

Buffy was anxious, afraid she'd done something wrong, she'd never ever kissed anyone like that before. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

He turned to face her and growls. His face was twisted and she gasped as the vampire looked her his demonic face clearly not that of a fledgling but of an older, more powerful vamp. Buffy screamed. It almost seemed to her that his eyes were full of anguish, pain, sorrow. His last look at her could have lasted no more than a few seconds but it seemed to carry on forever. Then he was out of the window, sliding down the roof and onto the pile of lumber by the house, into the dusk of the early evening.

Buffy rushed to the window, watching the disappearing figure. Joyce ran into the room, almost skidding in the doorway in her haste to come in. 

"Buffy, what happened?"

Buffy backed away from the window. Her mom took her by the shoulders. Buffy looked at Joyce, shaking her head. Joyce took in the flushed face and kiss bruised lips and met her daughter's eyes with a fearful gaze. 

"Did he…?"

"No…No he left…He…"

"Oh dear…" Joyce looked guilty and relieved at the same time. She took a deep breath. "Well…let's go have dinner."

They both looked out the window before going down. Joyce was just in time to save half a pound of cheddar from Willow. 

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The next morning was the first time the Slayerettes could speak in peace. Joyce had been hovering to see how Buffy was handling the situation and worry had been clear in her eyes and actions. It wasn't every day a potential boyfriend fled out the window after kissing you…she was worried and wondered what was wrong with the boy.

Willow was looking awestruck as they walked up the steps to the school. "Angel's a vampire?"

Buffy almost whined. "I can't believe this is happening. One minute we were kissing, and the next minute... "She turned to Giles. "Can a vampire ever be a good person? Couldn't it happen?"

Giles gave her a look. "A vampire isn't a person at all." He cleared his throat didactically. "It may have  
the movements, the, the memories, even the personality of the person that it took over, but i-it's still a demon at the core, there is no halfway."

Willow nodded thoughtfully. "So that'd be a no, huh?" 

Simon was trailing behind; carrying a science project Willow had been working on and looking decidedly aggravated. "That is just the sort of nonsense I'd expect from a representative of the body that exploded the Treaty of Alexandros. And I suggest..." He stressed the word sarcastically. "That we continue this conversation inside?"

Buffy blinked at him. Opening her mouth to speak but Giles nodded in terse, almost frightened agreement. The three teens sulked until they reached the Library. Giles kept throwing odd glances at the older man. Simon stepped into the Science classroom with Willow to drop of the project, hastening out as soon as they could. They entered the library to find Buffy expounding at Giles.

"Well, then what was he doing? Why was he good to me? Was it all some part of the Master's plan? It doesn't make sense!"

Willow sat down opposite Buffy at the library table.

Xander looked thoughtful. "Alright, uh..." He sat down, reaching for a chair, slowly lowering himself on the seat "...you have a problem, and it's not a small one. Let's take a breath and look at this calmly and  
objectively. Angel's a vampire. You're a Slayer. I think it's obvious what you have to do. "

Buffy didn't react. Xander looked up to Giles for support.

Giles hunkered down upon himself. "Uh, it is a Slayer's duty..." 

Simon snorted from where he was standing by the crate sent from his library.

"Bollocks. The Council has never been able to think in shades of grey." He took three steps and glared down at Giles. "These are the same people who had the slayer Nikki Wood, kill, slaughter is a better word, three hundred and fifteen Cheila Demons. Three hundred and fifteen men, women and children including three babes in arms. How do you think Nikki felt when Bernard and I told her Cheila are vegetarians? And that they'd been living in New York for three hundred years? And never had killed a single person? And they were all condemned to death because a single Cheila got too much like _humanity_ and decided to rape a teenage girl? That's a bit like killing all the Brits for what they did in India, wouldn't you say…_Watcher_?"

The last word was spoken with such venom that Giles recoiled. The teens were looking at the two men with wide eyes and Willow had crawled into Buffy's embrace. Buffy was holding onto her for dear life, eyes flicking from her Watcher to her mother's boyfriend.

Giles cowered back, his face pale. "T-that was a t-terrible mistake…"

Simon leaned forward, anger in his eyes and his words hissing from between his teeth. "That neither the Cheila community nor Nikki ever recovered from. She no longer wanted to live after that, did you know? She lost the will to fight. That is what the Council is: as cold, evil and as nasty as anything they make the Slayer face, while they cower in their luxurious manors in old Blighty." He stepped back to the crate and lifted a number of books out, until he found the one he was looking for.

Giles took of his glasses with trembling hands, polishing them with a handkerchief. "T-this is neither here nor there, it has little or no bearing on the p-present case…" Simon cut him off with a look.

"These are digests from my father's and Grandfather's journals for the later years of the Second World War and shortly after. In it they describe meeting Angelus, now Angel, once Liam O'Connell. The vampire with a soul. He's been atoning, not very well, but he's been doing his best, since he got it."

He glared at Giles. "You'd do a lot better at fighting your 'enemies' if you understood that most of them are very much like us: love, hope, family, wealth drive a lot of them. Their morals tend to be different, but sometimes not all that different. And they _can_ learn and they _can_ change."

He knelt by Buffy, handing her the book. "Liam was very brave during the war, and after. He's saved countless of lives since he got his soul back, even if has on more than one occasion slipped into depression." He sighed. "We know a lot about vampires through Liam. He was very fond of my grandmother and she talked with him a lot. Vampires can…change involuntarily while under the grip of strong emotions. I would say that…what you two were doing unleashed such emotions and Liam…flt he needed to get away to get it under control." He sighed. "I have to go now. There's a report on a missing girl from one of the Houses I want…need to hear."

Buffy nodded at him, holding the book to her chest as if it were a life line. Then she leaned forward and gave him a quick hug. "Thank you."

Simon rose, clasping a comforting hand on Xander's shoulder and kissing Willow's forehead. He shot Giles a warning look. Then he suddenly flushed. "Ummm… The third page in…there's a photograph that might interest you." He left with a hurried stride.

Xander looked after his foster father, and then looked at Buffy and Giles "I-I know you have feelings for this guy, but it's not like you're in love with him, right? And Giles? You wouldn't make Buffy do stuff like that would you?"

Buffy looked away from him, her fingers playing with the edges of the leather bound journal.

Giles takes his glasses off. "Nikki Wood was misled by a Watcher, not her own Watcher, not a Field Watcher, but a member of a splinter faction that believed…believes that all demons and extra dimensional beings ought to be destroyed. After the New York Cheila Massacre they were purged from the ranks…but the repercussions can still be felt. Seven watchers were evicted from the East coast last year alone, for actions that violated the Laws of the Concordat." He sighed. "I had not realized Dr. Meier was…involved with Miss Wood to such an extent." He shook his head. "He is right…The Council does tend to lose sight of the diversity of demons and demonic goals in the struggle."

Xander frowned. "Right…we'll talk about that later. Buff? Look at me?" Buffy looked up, her eyes filled with tears." You're in love with a vampire? I'd say you were outa your mind…but Dad…Simon says he's a good guy, so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. But really Buff? A vampire? That's cold." Xander shuddered, winking at her.

Buffy grinned at him wanly. Willow gave him a glare. "I think it's really romantic, like a nineteenth century novel, all unattainable love and pretty dresses and courtship and Heathclifff-y. So you'd better behave Xander! And no more bad jokes!"

Xander scowled. "Well, all I'm going to say is, that if he turns it into a bodice ripper I'm going to go all big brother on him. Vamp or not."

Willow looked at Buffy and both started to giggle. Xander shrugged helplessly while Giles, his face still set in an uncomfortable and apologetic mask, started looking through the Meier family note books, starting with the oldest, which detailed the arrival in Jamestown of one Lucius Sculpius Varo, called The Master and the siring of Anne, calling herself McGregor, a noted prostitute of that town later known as Darla.

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Angel walked down the stairs to the dreary subterranean hallway to his apartment. Opening his apartment after unlocking it he went inside, looking around, bending over to light a standing lamp. He could feel her presence in the room, had smelled her in the hallway. She thoughts she would surprise him, but his senses had always been keener than hers. He gently stroked the old books that lined the walls. He needed a cupboard for them; the damp would get to them otherwise. It was time to put on a show.

"Who's here?"

A soft voice, one he had known for centuries. He had been right then; his senses had not deceived him. "A friend."

He quickly turned to face the voice. Darla sashayed out of the shadows wearing a Catholic schoolgirl uniform.

"Hi. It's been a while."

Angel gave her a cold look. "A lifetime." *Not long enough.*

"Or two, but who's counting?"

"What's with the Catholic schoolgirl look? Last time I saw you it was kimonos."

"And last time I saw you it wasn't high school girls. Gotta keep up with the competition." She flared the  
skirt. "Don't cha like?" She walked up to Angel, moving her hand up his shirt clad chest finger by finger. "Want to help me get in trouble?" She winked salaciously. "Remember Budapest? Turn of the  
century? You were such a bad boy during that earthquake."

"Regrettably I do. You did some damage yourself."

"Is there anything better than a natural disaster? Except a hard man of course. She turned away from him, wiggling her hips seductively. "The panic. The people lost in the streets. It's like picking fruit off  
the vine." She reached the bed, falling on it on her back, raising one leg into the air, running her hands up and down it, showing him a flash of underwear no Catholic schoolgirl would wear. "Nice! You're trying too live above ground, like one of them. You and your new friend are attacking us, like one of them." She slowly got on her knees, running her hands over the front of her maidenly white shirt, tightening it over her hardened nipples before getting up and sauntering to the wall.

"But guess what, precious? You're not one of them."

With a wicked laugh she drew the blinds, letting in a stream of sunlight. Angel had subconsciously followed her, gotten closer while she displayed herself for him and was blinded by the sunlight, almost falling in his hast to get out of the direct beams of sunlight that fell onto his floor.

Darla smirked, pleased with having thrown him off balance. "Are you?"

Angel straightened. "No. But I'm not exactly one of you either."

Darla walked to the fridge. "Is that what you tell yourself these days?"

She opened the refrigerator and on seeing the bags and bottles of human blood, turned towards him again, a nasty smile playing around her full lips. 

"You're not exactly living off quiche. Not quite toddlers…But I suppose a few have died 'cause you took the blood meant for them." She carefully closed the fridge, dusting the top with a finger and wrinkling her nose at it. "You and I both know what you hunger for." She slinked towards him again, all seductive and seeming innocence, youth and beauty perverted forever. "What you need. Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's who we are. It's what makes eternal life worth living." She smiled up at him, touching his chest, fingering the fine material of the shirt again. "Mm. You can only suppress your real nature for so long. You can feel it brewing inside of you. I hope I'm around when it explodes." 

"Maybe you don't wanna be."

"I'm not afraid of you. I bet she is, though." Darla moved towards the door. "Or maybe I'm underestimating her. Talk to her. Tell her about the curse. Maybe she'll come around. And if she still doesn't trust you, you know where I'll be."

Darla walked out of the apartment, leaving Angel behind, looking thoughtful.

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The library was silent. Giles was reading the neatly written journals of the Meier family. The fold out sheets at the end showed the family tree of the Order of Aurelius, with some annotation on where in the Journals information on some individuals might be found. The occasional 'Good lord' and the scratching of his fountain pen filled the air.

Willow and Buffy were bent over the Journal that Simon had placed in her hands, the one that contained notes on Angel. Willow was nibbling a piece of Gouda she'd sneaked out from under the cloche that morning. Buffy had a jelly donut. They were currently gazing at the third page again, a copy of a photograph. An old man in wheelchair, white haired and face scarred but still with the Meier nose clearly recognizable sat next to Angel, while the vampire was holding a child, a young child, with a gentle expression on his face. A feminine hand had written below it: _Simon, Liam and Littlest Simon, 23-12-1945_.

Buffy was subdued, running her hand over the copied picture.

"Buff?" Willow asked in a worried tone, hoping the other girl would react.

"Why didn't he tell me before?"

"Who?"

"Simon! He knew."

Willow gave the blonde a look. "Duh. This is da…Simon. He'd no more tell you then he'd tell you how to write a science essay. He'd just tell Angel to tell you, and be there for you if Angel messed up. Like he did."

Buffy smiled a little at Willow's slip. It happened quite often now, that she would call Joyce and Simon mom and dad. Pretty soon she would be doing it with them present. She'd bet ten dollars to Xander that Simon would preen like a peacock the first time it happened, and another ten that her mother…their mother would get a little teary eyed. "Yah. I suppose you're right." She scowled again. "That must have been what he was trying to tell me…This morning. And before…When I kissed him."

Willow giggled. "And it musta been so embarrassing when you thought he had read your diary, but then it turned out he hadn't, but then he felt the same way..." 

Xander growled. Willow shut up, grinning.

Giles muttered something about the reason for Angel's name, 'He of the angelic face.'

Buffy smiled a bit dreamily. "Yeah, they got that right."

Xander growled even louder until Willow kicked him and glared. The young man put a hand on his chest and puffed it out. "I'm not saying anything, I have nothing to say." His innocent act made the girls roll their eyes.

But Buffy bit her lip when she saw how honestly worried his eyes were. Xander's crush on her had taken a hit after his near rape of her and had quietly faded into nothingness since he moved in. It was strange, but he seemed happy with it, and all she got of him now was the big brother vibe, and she could live with that. She could live very well with a big brother.

Giles looked up. "Does this ah Angel have, um, a tattoo behind his right shoulder?"

Buffy nodded, remembering the tattoo from her impromptu first aid session, she moved slightly on the second cushion on the library chair. She'd expected the spanking to have long since faded, but somehow her mom's punishment was still quite noticeable. She'd ask Giles, but that would just be too embarrassing. Simon might know…and asking him would not be embarrassing at all…yeah right. "Yeah, it's a, it's a bird or something."

Xander's fingers rapped on the table. "Now I'm sayin' something. You saw him naked?"

Willow giggled. Giles sighed. "According to these different sources, he was born in Ireland in 1727."

Willow blinked at Buffy. "Wow. So, Angel's been around for a while."

Giles took of his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Not long for a vampire. Uh, two hundred and forty years or so as a Vampire. They are immortal after all, even if the older ones are targeted for hunts by Slayers."

Buffy scrunched up her face at the last remark. "Huh! Two hundred and forty. Well, he said he was older."

Giles leafed through several of the journals, marshalling his thoughts. "Angelus leaves Ireland, uh, wreaks havoc in, in Europe for, uh, several decades, and then, um, about eighty years ago, the most curious thing happens. He, he comes to, uh, to America, um, shuns other vampires, and, and lives alone. There's, there's no, no record of him hunting here."

Willow looked at the journal in front of her. It was the only one in the pile written by a woman, apparently the Meier's were not much for the emancipation. "Born in Galway in 1727, Liam son of Sean and Katherine, younger sister Katherine as well. He talked about them a lot apparently. Sired in 1753 by the vampire known to him as Darla. She was sired in Jamestown in 1609…she was then known as Anne McGregor, and a prostitute."

Giles sighed. "He would have…if he gained a soul, a moral compass…Most vampires kill their former families. To have that on his mind, his conscience…"

Xander winced. "Ouch. In any normal family that would be fairly awful, yeah." Willow gave him a sad look. He said it flippantly and he might not love his biological parents very much, but still. She moved over from where she sat beside Buffy to give him a quick hug, and then sat back down.

Willow looked thoughtful. "I saw him this afternoon with Dawn, before you came home Buff…He seemed very happy talking with her. Mom was really angry with her for reading your diary though."

Buffy very slowly turned to Willow. Xander ducked behind the large book he had been reading. Giles found something interesting to investigate in one of the crates from the Council. Willow paled. "Oops?"

"She READ my DIARY?"

"Yes. Mom grounded her totally for two w-weeks and she gets no donuts and ummm, I think she has to do your chores?" Willow gulped.

"SHE read MY diary?" Buffy's voice was hitting whole new registers of sound.

Xander started to chuckle. "No doubt it was a bodice ripper and she couldn't put it down." Buffy threw a ball of paper at him, before she stared to pout angrily.

"She's soooo in trouble."

Xander picked at his lip. "Yeah. Let's get back on subject, Angel. Before he gained his soul?"

Giles took of his glasses, polishing them as he looked at Buffy. "Uh, like all of them. Uh, a vicious, violent animal."

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The dark pool smelled of blood and brine and the minerals leeched by rain from ancient stone and rock. The ancient gnarled and twisted face of the Master took in the twisted beauty of his Childe. Age had made her more powerful, more vicious. He was proud of her and fond of her. She was a true scion of the Line of Aurelius. She hummed a little to herself, a little ditty from her days as an innocent young girl in England, in the days of Queen Elizabeth. Before the ten year old she had been had been taken for the debts of her parents and her new madam sold her virginity to the highest bidder. He smiled at the thought. Humans were so much like vampires in some things. The veneer of civilization was exceedingly thin.

Darla spoke up. "Don't think I'm not grateful, you letting me kill the Three."

"How can my children learn if I do everything for them?"

Darla nodded, still pleased. "But you've gotta let me take care of the Slayer."

The Master grinned. She had a plan. Darla loved plans and only Angelus and Spike among all his line were a match for her. If Spike could be bothered to plan instead of running off half-cocked of course.

"Oh! You're giving me orders now!"

Darla walked away, her face pouty. "Okay, then, we'll just do nothing while she takes us out one by one."

The Master grinned, he had been right. "Do I sense a plan, Darla?" Darla turned round, her face eager now that she knew she had her Sire's attention. "Share..."

Darla walked back to him, moving like warm blood, her eyes eagerly taking in the hard lines of his body under his black leather clothes. *If I play this right…* "Angel kills her and comes back to the fold."

The old vampire nodded reminiscently. "Angel! He was the most vicious creature I ever met. I miss him."

Darla looked a touch despondent, her full strawberry lips pouting. "So do I."

The Head of the Line of Aurelius sat in his chair. He looked at his oldest surviving Childe thoughtfully. "Why would he kill her if he feels for her?"

Darla smirked. "To keep her from killing him."

The old vamp sat back and smiled, looking at Collin, the Chosen one of his Line. "You see how we all work together for the common good? That's how a family is supposed to function!" He grinned lecherously at his Childe and waved her over. "A good plan deserves a reward."

Darla smiled, undoing her shirt as she walked towards him. She would be even more in his favour if her plan worked. 

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The kitchen door slammed open and then shut. Dawn's eyes widened as she stood in the kitchen, a can of soda in her hand and Buffy stalked in like a tigress. Joyce saw the frightened startled doe eyes of her youngest and then heard the growl in her eldest daughter's throat. Dawn swallowed. The can dropped from her fingers, she started backing away, faster and faster ands then turned and ran. Buffy was after her like a shot. Willow came in looking guilty, carrying both her and Buffy's bookbags.

Joyce saw the guilty face and laughed. "Oh Willow… good afternoon. I take it you dropped a bomb?"

Willow nodded, shamefaced. "I'm sorry…"

Joyce shrugged, turning back to her cooking. "This has been a normal occurrence in this household since Dawn learned to read and be sneaky, around age four. So it's not your fault. Stop feeling guilty and help me peel some potatoes. It will be a while before Dawn is back to do her chores." She gave her fosterling a humorous look. "Hence the reason why I always wait with telling Buffy until Dawn has a good stopping point in her chores."

Willow blinked. "Dawnie could read at age four?" Willow dropped the bookbags and moved toward the cheese cloche. She started lifting it and Joyce cleared her throat.

Willow gave her a pleading look. "But…Gouda…"

"No Willow, dinner's in less than an hour. And since you drove of my assistant…" She looked pointedly at the peeler and Willow poutingly picked up a potato and peeler.

"So Dawn could read at four?" She prompted again.

Joyce smiled reminiscently "No. She learned to be sneaky then. Buffy could read at four, Dawn at three."

There was a squeal from outside as Buffy evidently caught Dawn. Both ignored it.

Willow looked thoughtful. "Oh…but ummm Buffy?"

"Acts like an airhead? Most of that is a pose to ensnare boys. Jocks don't really go for nerds." She shrugged hopelessly. "She's such a good actress; she sorta forgot who she is…what she can do."

Willow nodded. "I see."

There was another loud scream from above and then tense and hysterical laughter and begging.

They exchanged amused looks. Dawn Summers was suffering the torture of a thousand tickles. It would be a while before she opened a diary again.

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It was dark outside and Willow and Buffy sat in the School library working on History. They'd told Joyce that they needed the back up of the research books, but in fact it was a fairly standard test they were studying for.

Willow stifled a sigh. Buffy's mind was not on studying, and though she understood she was tired and, well she missed Mo…Ms Summers' hot chocolate and comforting presence. And the chance to sneak some cheese… Studying late at school or at her parents' home was never as nice as with mom and dad…she'd done it again. She had to stop thinking it. Buffy might be alright with it, but Ms. Summers and Dr. Meier were less likely to accept her. It was not as if her parents beat her, like Xander's had. She shook herself out of her maudlin thoughts. "Okay, so let's review. Reconstruction began when?" She looked up to see Buffy's far away look. Apparently she was not the only one who had been woolgathering. "Buffy?"

Buffy startled landing forcefully back in reality. "Huh?" She gave Willow a slightly shamefaced, blushing look. "Oh! Um, reconstruction... Uh, reconstruction began after the... construction, which was... shoddy, so they had to reconstruct."

Willow tried to refrain from rolling her eyes. She understood Buffy was upset and uncertain. "After the destruction of the Civil War."

Buffy gave a little sigh, looking down at the table. "Right. Civil War. During which Angel was already, like, a hundred and change..."

Willow gave her an understanding if exasperated look. "Are we gonna talk about boys, or are we gonna help you pass history?"

Buffy looked up at Willow and the sheer fear, anguish and uncertainty in her eyes were all the answer Willow needed. She closed the book.

Willow leaned forward conspiratorially. "Sometimes I have this fantasy that Xander's just gonna grab me and kiss me right on the lips." She flashed a huge smile.

Buffy smiled back. "You want Xander, you've gotta speak up, girl!"

Willow swallowed heavily. "No, no, no, no. No speaking up. That way leads to madness and sweaty palms."

Darla, standing among the stacks shook her head at the inanity of the conversation.  
Buffy sighed. "Wills…You have to. Once people find out he's not just a pretty face but that Simon's got money, the vultures will start moving in."

Willow shrank in on herself. When she finally spoke it was in the tiniest voice Buffy had ever heard her use. "I know. I know 'k? It's just…" Buffy was around table and holding the little red head before the tears could start. "He's so happy now…and… and _he's _got a new mom and dad and I have no…" Buffy silenced her with a finger to her lips.

"Wills…don't tell mom I told you…They're working on getting you too, ok? But only if you want it."'

Willow's smile was so radiant that it nearly blinded the blonde. "Really?

"Really. I asked mom after…" Buffy winced, shifting slightly. Her damn Slayer healing still hadn't removed the feeling of stiffness and soreness. And it should have. She really had to talk to Simon about that. At least he knew what had happened and she really did not want to tell that to Giles…

"my ummm appointment with mom."

Willow flushed. "Yeah. Ok. Ummm." She looked at the older girl still with that incredible smile. "Okay, so here's something I gotta know. When Angel kissed you... I mean before he turned into... how was it?"

Buffy's smile was almost as incandescent as Willow's. "Unbelievable!"

Darla almost growled at the fact that her Childe had…sucked face with the kine before her, without killing her afterwards. He'd never kissed his victims before he left them, except to bite their lips off. She held back and listened.

Willow smiled enthusiastically. "Wow! And it is kinda novel how he'll stay young and handsome forever, although you'll still get wrinkly and die, and... Oh, and what about the children?" Buffy looked at her, her face stiff and pained and Willow quickly tightened her hold on her. "I'll be quiet now."

Buffy sighed. "No, it's okay. I need to hear this. I need to get over him so I can..."

Willow released her and put her hands on her hips, an interesting feat while sitting down. "So you can…" She made a staking motion with her hands. "Is that what you want? Maybe you need to talk to him first? He hasn't hunted for decades. I mean he may be v-vegetarian!"

Buffy started to giggle in spite of her self. "A vegetarian? I doubt it." Her face fell. Like Xander said, I'm the Slayer, and he's a... vampire. God, I can't! He's never done anything to hurt me..." The slayer shook herself. "Okay, no, I need to stop thinking about this. Okay, let's give revision another half an hour and maybe something will sink in. And then I'm going home for some major moping."

Willow shook her head. "Naah, we will go home and ask mom for some of the Ice cream she very pointedly put in the freezer so I could see it."

Willow gave Buffy a round the shoulder squeeze and Buffy grinned. "Thanks Lil Sis. I feel better already."

"And she told Simon to get some real chocolate…" Willow gave Buffy a look. "Halvesies?" Buffy chuckled.

"Sure, but the little diary sneak gets nothing!"

Willow grinned. "You say that now, but you cannot resist those baby blues…"

Darla smiled and backed away. * The Slayer's mother and sister…Perfect targets…Angel was the only vampire who had access to the Slayer's house. Angel would be driven in to their arms and the Slayer would be vulnerable. Perfect, indeed.*

Willow opened the textbook again. "Okay. The era of the congressional reconstruction, usually  
called radical..."


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's note: **

**I hope I made it sufficiently clear that Simon **_**only**_** got to Buffy because she was overconfident and he had experience sparring with a previous Slayer. This is one Reason (note upper case R) Simon is from New York. Simon is not supernaturally fast, or strong, or even exceptionally good at martial arts. He does have years of experience, he is older after all, but age is slowing him down. He's as good as years of training and a modicum of talent can make him, (but he is not championship material. **

**Buffy should have wiped the floor with him, and that is exactly what scares him****.**

_Chapter 18: Catholic schoolgirls and motherly feelings. _

Xander was sweeping up the last bits of iron filings into the dustpan, emptying it into the metal waste bin; Mr. Danvers was a good mechanic of the old school and he knew the value of all metal. Xander was learning a lot about car and motor cycle maintenance. And the proper way to sweep floors. With his job, his schoolwork, getting his ass dragged across town on training runs and saving the world his days were full. But they were good days. He heard the sound of an engine and went outside to see if he could help the customer. Simon got out of the Volvo, nodding at him and Mr. Danvers. The old mechanic looked at the car, then at Simon.

"So what did you do now?'

Simon smiled. "Nothing…I'm here to talk to Xander." The he scratched his nose in the mannerism that Xander associated with his foster father being slightly annoyed and embarrassed. And I think one of the lovely Sunnydale roads struck a hole in my radiator."

Danvers grunted. "None of them Wilkinses was ever any good at road maintenance. And all them stupid tunnels…cost us a heap o' money. And nothing ever came of that personal transport railroad they was gabbing about." He lay down on a wheeled plank and rolled under the car. "You can see the hole. Xander, bring my welding kit, then you can go talk with your dad. And no smart mouth either!"

"Yes sir." Xander ran into the shop and came back with the small welding kit and the appropriate rods. Danvers grinned at him and rolled back from under the car, mixed his gasses, set the torch alight and rolled back under the car.

Simon took his son's shoulder and led him away.

"You're angry."

"What?"

"About Angel. That he's a vampire. That Buffy has feelings for him. That I knew of him before."

Xander was silent for a minute, looking at the flicker of the torch. "Yeah. Yeah I suppose I am."

Simon nodded. "I quite understand. Xander…You did not kill Jesse. Vampires killed Jesse. You killed a vampire."

Xander shrugged, irritated. "I know that here…" He pointed at his head "But not here…" And pointed at his heart.

"Yes. It's the hardest when you know them…I've always been very glad that the vampire who killed Nikki did not turn her…But he was always rather strange…said he wouldn't do it to her child…"

"How many friends have you killed?"

"I only have four friends Xander…Only ever had the same four and thank _something_ they're still alive… But plenty of my acquaintances have been killed by fighting at my side. I've slain the possessed bodies of nine"

"Ah. Do you ever get used to it?"

"No…but it helps to realize that what they were gone…Xander…no one in the world is harder on Liam O'Connell than Liam O'Connell… He's a depressed, near suicidal guilt ridden wreck. Only the notion that he can help Buffy has dragged him from life as a homeless hunter of rats." He thought for a minute. "You needn't tell your sister that last bit."

Xander grinned. "So…she's his redemption?"

"No…possibly a step on the way to it. A way to achieve a more positive outlook on life."

"You're not happy about it either."

"Him being a vampire complicates matters. Him being a guilt ridden wreck with a history of alcoholism older than the United States and fits of decade long depression…that's what worries me. He'll need to pull himself up by his bootstraps to be good enough for Buffy…He used to have the willpower, but everything he's done for the past eighty odd years has resulted in failure…he'll need encouragement and a firm hand."

"And you think Buffy can give him that?"

Simon grinned. "Well partially…if he's serious and treats Buffy well…Your mother is more likely to take a part in his re education."

Xander grinned. "It'll make for interesting dinners…Ugh…blood at the table." He grimaced.

Simon shrugged. "Vampires can eat and even digest solid food…they need the blood for nourishment however. Many vampires enjoy the flavour and texture of human food. Most of them enjoy fine wine and such."

"So you're not freaked out merely 'cause he's a vampire?"

"Vampires can be intensely loyal lovers, if a bit possessive…And Buffy is strong willed and well able to stand up for herself. But…As I said my primary objections against Liam lie in his personality."

Xander smiled. "Ah well…I suppose we can hardly dictate who Buffy falls for."

Simon barked a short laugh. "You're right. I never realized some of the frustrations of fatherhood."

Danvers rolled out from under the car. "It's done…but you'd better get it to a dealer, that radiator's been patched often enough to be replaced." He rose, taking his cylinders into the garage to store them properly.

Simon rose. "Need a ride home?"

Xander pointed at his bicycle. "I promised to go by the school. Wills and Buff are there and were going home together. I'll go see if Mr. Danvers needs anything."

Simon nodded. "I need to go past the office first anyway..."

"Still haven't found that girl?"

Simon ran a hand over his face. "Yeah…we think she was attacked, or taken. She was very excited about getting fostered...and now her foster parents have been attacked and no longer feel able to take her in…Poor girl."

"The Boston House, right?"

"There's two there, but yes."

Xander sighed. "Are you going to go there? Maybe use magic?"

"There are people far more capable of finding her than me, with or without magic…" His eyes widened. He grinned at Xander. "You, my son, are a genius." He clapped the boy on the shoulder and drove off.

Xander walked into the building and looked at Danvers. "Shouldn't he have paid you?"

"Nah. I know where you live."

Xander grinned. "Yeah, I suppose you do."

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The kitchen of the Summers' house was sealed against the weather by several garishly coloured tarpaulins. The soft rustling noise as they flapped in the light breeze had lured Joyce from her seat in the dining room. And it was closer to the coffee maker. Simon had an important business meeting about one of his charities. She hoped he wasn't still upset about Duncan Macleod being so handsome and urbane. She liked the expat Scott well enough and had to admit that she'd been tempted in the separation phase of her marriage to Hank…And Duncan was gorgeous…But he was with Tessa, and she liked them both far too much to inflict on them what Hank had on her.

But Simon was handsome and made her feel safe. And beautiful and loved. And she really shouldn't have teased Simon. She'd make it up to him tonight. She smirked to herself and sipped her coffee. She glanced at her taxes. Simon had offered to have his accountants take care of them, but she'd been adamant to do them herself. Now she was having second thoughts. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed again.

The porch creaked and Joyce got up. None of her older children was home, Xander was off doing an after school job and Willow and Buffy were studying at the Library. Simon had gone to the office to be briefed about the search for the missing girl. Dawn was upstairs, supposedly doing homework but in actuality reading an Astrid Lindgren book from Willow's collection. A look out of the door window showed her nothing. Opening the door revealed nothing either. Closing it she decided to try the front door. There was a knock as she approached and Joyce smiled to herself. So there had been someone there.

A quick look through the window showed a young blonde girl in an old fashioned school uniform, carrying at least one large text book. She opened the door. *I'm not going to buy anything. No matter how cute she looks. And what school sends it pupils out at night to sell cookies? Be strong Joyce!*

Joyce took a breath. "Hello? How can I help you?"

The blonde flashed a smile, much like Willow's. Joyce took in the uniform, the tightly clenched books, the slightly anxious expression and the sensible Mary Janes, one foot trying to stop from twisting in shy embarrassment. * Oh dear…another waif…Why do they send a child like this out alone?* When the girl spoke she was perky and upbeat, but a little something under her the happy tones told Joyce a different story. "Hi! I'm Darla? A f-friend of Buffy's?" She gave Joyce an uncertain look. "D-did she mention me? We met at the Espresso Pump, I go to different school but she's really nice and so's Willow…"

Joyce smiled and let out the breath she'd taken earlier. "Nice to meet you, Darla. Now breathe."

Darla took a breath, looking flustered and a little sad. "She didn't mention anything about me coming over for a study date, did she?"

Joyce gave the girl and encouraging smile. "No, I thought she was studying with Willow at the library."

Darla nodded. "She is. I'm not allowed on campus, I'm not a student there… Willow's the Civil War expert, but then I was supposed to help her with the War of Independence. My family kinda goes back to those days." Joyce gave the girl a piercing look. She looked uncomfortable to Joyce's experienced maternal eye.

"Do you have permission to be here Darla?"

Darla blushed. "Sorta…There has to be a responsible adult…"

Joyce sighed. "And let me guess you're not supposed to walk through town alone at night?"

Darla looked at her shoes, her foot now really twisting in that little girl way Dawn still sometimes had and she sometimes caught Willow doing. "No, Ms. Summers."

It was the tiny scared, lonely voice that made Joyce sigh. *Yes…another waif.*

"Well, I, I know she's supposed to be home soon. Would you like to come in and wait?"

Darla perked up a little. "Yes, thank you. It's very nice of you to invite me into your home." She gave Joyce a tentative hopeful smile, a smile that made the older woman's heart ache. She'd have to find a way to get young Darla invited over more often, she seemed just as starved of affection as Willow.

Joyce shrugged, making light of the situation. No need for the girl to know she'd seen right through her. "You're welcome. I've been wrestling with the IRS all night. Would you like something to eat? Or maybe something to drink?" She led her guest to the kitchen. She turned round and gave the girl a look. "are you allowed coffee? Willow gets…"

Darla flushed. "Hyper when she drinks coffee or coke. Yeah. Me too. Ummm…"

"Tea or a soda and something to eat then?"

Darla nodded, looking at Joyce's graceful neck. "That would be lovely."

Joyce started rummaging through the fridge, taking and absentminded look into the bakery box Simon had added to the kitchen. The man's penchant for fresh baked goods was going to make her fat, she knew. She noted the cheese Cloche had rather less under it than it should. Willow's penchant for Cheddar and Gouda led to interesting campaigns in which the girl did her utmost to gain her favourite snack. "Let's see what we have. Do you feel like something little or something big?"

Darla grinned at the back of the oblivious woman, her face changing as her demonic form took over.

"Something big!" 

The ensouled vampire looked with trepidation at the front of the house he had left so precipitously the day before. He could see the lights were on; its warmth was leaking from the windows and from around the tarpaulins hung over the back and sides of the house. He really ought to talk to Buffy…and her parents, or whatever function the man filled in her life. He was about to knock; then withdrew his hand. What would his reception be? How would they treat him? He'd jumped out of the window after kissing the eldest daughter of the house…In his own youth either her brother or father would have called him out. Or merely have had him beaten up severely. He stood, wondering and wavering and finally sighed, not that it helped, but it was odd how such human habits remained, and made to knock again. It was then that he heard the scream. That was Joyce…and the scream came from the kitchen. Running round the porch, he ripped open the kitchen door and came face to face with Darla, her bloody fangs making a sucking noise as they withdrew from the elegant white neck of Buffy's mother.

Angel's anger flared. This was a woman who thought he was going to molest her daughter and yet had told him to eat more, let him sleep in her house, had lent him her books and even recommended some. Angel realized quite suddenly he liked Joyce Summers, and respected her for the love and devotion to her daughters and yes, for the protectiveness she showed towards all her children. He could not let her be killed, not even by his sire. He snarled at the platinum blonde. "Let her go!"

Darla smiled at him, her blood-stained teeth setting him on edge as much as Joyce's fluttering lashes as unconsciousness took her. "I just had a little, there's plenty more. And it's lovely, full of life, tingling, much better than that cold swill that you heat" The blonde licked obscenely at the neck before her, swallowing the blood that ran from Joyce's neck. "Aren't you hungry for something warm after all this time? Come on, Angel. Just say 'Yes'!"

She shoved Joyce into Angel's arms, the smell of her blood mixed with her vanilla perfume soared into his nostrils and he could see the blood coming from the puncture wounds in her throat, pumped out by the working of her own heart. He tired to look away, swallowing heavily, looked away from Darla. * I-I can't, oh god…* The demon took over. He looked at Darla his demon face snarling at her. She smiled at him.

"Welcome home!" 

The older vampire rose smoothly, walking around him, trailing her fingers through his hair and over his shoulder. She left the kitchen through the porch door and threw him a mocking salute. "Be seein' ya!"

Angel continued to struggle against the demon within him. He'd lived too long on the edge and his control was bad, his demon just beneath the surface, barely chained by his conscience and his soul.

He heard a door open and close and the sound of footsteps coming towards the kitchen. Buffy was calling out to her mother as she crossed the dining room towards the kitchen.

"Mom! I'm home. Xand's bike broke down and he was wondering if you could pick him and Wills up while they're walking…

Buffy froze as she took in the scene before her, the vampire holding her fallen mother who looked far too pale. The growling vampire whose long, wicked fangs were bared.

Angel shied away from Joyce's body just as Buffy foot connected with his chin, her body twisting over him in a long jump to get between him and the kitchen door, denying him a swift exit. He slipped by her, under her rising leg, back towards the kitchen door that led into the hall and he backed off as she punched him in the stomach and then in the face as he doubled over at the sheer force of the blow, then was struck back as she hit his chin, flying through the open door into the dining room and kicked again, staggering further inwards, taking in the fury on her face and felt her massive strength lifting him of the ground as another kick slammed into his already aching ribs. He felt the glass and wood breaking and flew out through the dining room window.

He staggered upwards, looking over his shoulder, seeing the enraged face of Buffy and the astonished one of Dawn.

"You're not welcome here. You come near us and I'll kill you."

Angel looked at the girls in silence before slipping away into the darkness. 

Buffy ran back to the kitchen, followed by Dawn. Grabbing the phone on her way Buffy knelt by her mother, dialling 911.

Dawn was staring in wide eyed horror at her mother as Buffy placed gentle fingers on her mother's neck to feel her pulse. "Mom! Mom, can you hear me?" Dawn could see Buffy relax just a tiny fraction when her sister realized there was a pulse and then Buffy almost shouted into the phone as the operator answered. "Yes, I need an ambulance, 1630 Revello Drive! My mother cut herself; she lost a lot of blood! Please, please hurry!" She dropped the phone; her hand going to her mother's and held onto it for dear life while Dawn stood stock still and pale, silent tears of terrible fear running down her face. "Mom!" 

There were voices coming from the porch. "You know Xand, I could really do with a bit of cheddar."

An indulgent chuckle. "You can always do with a bit of Cheddar Wills…"

Xander's voice came through the kitchen door. "Hey, Buffy!"

Buffy looked up to see Xander and Willow enter through the door. She noted absentmindedly that Xander's hands were covered in black grime, the result of his failed attempt to fix his bike.

Xander's eyes widened and his face paled. Willow stumbled around him wide eyed and in shock, falling down on her knees beside Joyce, facing Buffy. Xander was the first to speak. "Oh my God!"

Willow reached out a trembling hand to the pale face of the woman on the floor. "M-mom? Buffy? What happened?"

Buffy snarled in anger and frustration. "Angel!" 

Willow shook herself. "Dawnie? I need the kitchen towel! And the first aid kit. Xander, Dad's emergency bag is in the living room. Get it!" Xander took of stumbling in his haste and Dawn grabbed the dishtowel from its place beside the fridge, threw it at Willow and ran to the first aid kit, getting there before Buffy had a chance to get up. She set it down next to Joyce and then fell down on her knees, biting her fist. "Mommy? Mommy? Please? Wake up?" Buffy put her arm around her youngest sister and pulled her close, both of them watching as Willow staunched the last of the bleeding and tied a rough bandage around Joyce's throat.

Xander ran back into the kitchen, carrying a black leather case in his one hand and his phone at his ear. "Dad? Angel attacked mom, were going to take her to the hospital. I'll put Willow on, she did the first aid."

Buffy shook herself. "I called 911. They should be here pretty soon."

He handed Willow the phone and the redhead spoke in a clear, if slightly tremulous voice as on the other side of the line Simon calmly questioned her.

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An ancient Citroen pulled up next to a black jeep in the parking lot, an old Volvo next to the jeep and a black BMW with tinted windows. Two men in jeans and t shirts stood beside it, their sports jackets not quite covering the holstered hand guns. Giles blinked at them in confusion before running into the hospital, striding quickly inside, consulting the hastily scribbled note in his hand and running, stumblingly through the depressing green corridors. He found the elevators and took the one that was opening and rushed out on the second floor and to the room number, hearing the voices.

There were two more men, dangerous looking men, with hand guns standing in front of the door. They stepped forward to block his passage. A third man, one he had not noticed, suddenly stood too close behind him. "This room is open only to the family." The voice was British, Northern.

Giles swallowed slightly when he recognized the tattoo of the winged sword of the S.A.S. on the wrist of the man behind him. The Watcher did not doubt that the bearer had earned it.

"I'm Rupert Giles…"

The man stepped back and the two by the door stepped aside, all in one smooth, oiled motion. "Our apologies, Dr. Giles. You are expected." His voice was still polite, but possibly even colder than before. Not reassuring at all. One of the younger men opened the door and Giles entered, a backwards glance showing him a spare, ascetic face on the trim body of a man in his early forties, a body like a well honed sword, smiling at him politely. He shuddered and entered the room.

He heard Buffy talking as he came in. 

"Do you remember anything, Mom?"

It was a strange scene inside the room. It was a private apartment, large and airy and a single large bed was set against the wall. A couch and another bed were set nearer to the window. Joyce was lying against a pillow set against Simon's chest, a white bandage around her neck and a hospital gown on. Buffy was holding her left hand and Dawn was lying, sleeping on the bed, her head on her mother's breast, Simon's hand stroking the youngest Summers' girl's hair softly. Xander and Willow were on her other side, Willow holding on to the injured woman's hand as if her life depended on it.

Joyce looked a little vague. "Just, um, your friend came over... I was gonna make a snack..."

Buffy took a deep breath. "My friend?"

Giles stood at the door, hesitating. Xander reached out his hand and touched Joyce's arm. He spoke, his voice gentle, with an apologetic look at Buffy. "Angel?"

Joyce's face showed a little sadness, "No, the shy little blonde…the one who was going to help you with history?" She looked at Buffy with a pensive expression. "Is she an Angel type friend? I didn't think you'd be into the catholic schoolgirl thing…Not that there's anything wrong with the Catholic schoolgirl thing, I think…"

Before Joyce could continue Simon put a hand over her mouth. "I think the sedatives are still working." He smiled at the blushing Buffy while Willow and Xander grinned. 

Simon took a breath. "Not Angel."

Buffy looked confused, Xander looked thoughtful. Willow and Dawn were both ignoring the conversation, Dawn since she was asleep and Willow because she was focused completely on Joyce's face. Joyce's eyes were closed and she seemed to be dozing.

Suddenly her eyes opened and she spoke in a wavery voice. "I guess I slipped and cut my neck on... The doctor said it looked like a barbecue fork." She gave Simon a look. "You bought a barbeque didn't you? You're going to go all primal? I like it when you go all primal."

She gave Buffy a look. Talking around the hand that had been clamped over her mouth by her flushed boyfriend she continued in a dreamy voice. All three teens were torn between groaning and grinning and Giles had opted for the latter. "We never used t'own a barbeque. So we didn't have a barbecue fork." She gave Giles a look.

"Are you another doctor?"

Buffy turned around and saw Giles. Shaking herself and wondering exactly what they had her mother on, she turned back to Joyce. "Oh! Um... No, Mom, this is Mr. Giles."

Joyce smiled. "Oh, the librarian from your school!" She looked coyly at Simon. "He has a book about your family you know. I got another one too…You have some very naughty ancestors." She fluttered her lashes at him seductively, making him blush and Buffy and the others groaned again. The noise drew Joyce's attention back to her, frowning a bit. "So what's he doing here? I understand older men are fascinating, but aren't there rules against that sort of thing?"

Giles could feel himself turn red from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. *There may have been certain…instances in the past of Watcher-Slayer relationships…but good grief, what _do_ they have her on?* "Uh, I-I just came to pay my respects, wish you a speedy recovery."

Joyce gave him a look. "Boy, the teachers really do _care_ in this town." She gave Giles and Buffy and then Willow a pointed glare. Willow's blush was the fiercest and Joyce blinked. "Oh, different daughter." She squeezed Buffy's hand. "Sorry." She glared at Giles, or at least tried to. "You keep your hands to yourself mister; she's much too young and innocent for the likes of you, Walks-with-darkness." 

Buffy and Xander blinked and gawped between the redhead and the watcher and Willow and Giles were both blushing and stammering. Joyce yawned. "Boy I'm tired."

Buffy nodded, torn between amusement and mortification. "Get some rest now."

Buffy kissed her mother and Xander and Willow did the same, Joyce smiling at them with half hooded eyes. Xander lifted the exhaustedly sleeping Dawn and laid her carefully on the bed. Willow had turned back the sheets and he slipped her between them with great care after Willow had taken off Dawn's sneakers. Dawn whimpered her hand searching for something as Willow covered her gently.

"She needs Buttons or mom to sleep." Buffy said it absentmindedly.

Willow nodded, still red and deeply embarrassed; reaching into a bag she carried that held some clothing for Joyce. "I brought Buttons…I thought Dawnie might want to stay here." She left unspoken that it was unlikely she would be leaving either. The presence of Fluffles the bear in the bag made that pretty clear. She fished out the disreputable stuffed monkey that Dawn curled up with every night and placed it gently in her arms.

Joyce smiled. "You're a good sister." She smiled brilliantly at Xander. "And you're a good brother." The she mock scowled at him and growled. "But no more Twinkie eating tricks." She then snuggled into Simon with a happy little noise and began to snore lightly. Willow looked at the sleeping woman, and let out a breath.

"Good God…what do they have her on?"

Simon snorted. "Mild anaesthesia combined with a concussion and blood loss. Remind me never to allow that ever again by the way." He muttered some words which only Buffy heard. *Stoned als een garnaal? What the hell is a garnaal?* There was a chorus of fervent 'yeses' and Giles got out his glasses and polishing cloth, looking at the two teen girls with acute embarrassment.

Buffy swallowed, looking at her mother. Willow sat down on the bed by Dawn, running a hand over her head and giving her a light kiss. Xander leaned forward and did the same. 

Simon very carefully slipped out from under Joyce and moved her down to lie on the pillow. She sighed and her hands searched for something, her face finally settling into a little frown. "Sime? Wan' cuddles." Simon leaned forward and kissed her lips,

"Later Joy, I've to go work.'

"'Kay." Joyce snuggled into her pillow, sighed again and fell into a deeper sleep.

Giles cleared his throat. "And the prognosis?"

Buffy nodded at Giles. "She's gonna be okay. Mild concussion. They, they gave her some iron... Her, uh, blood count was a, a little..."

Giles took in the family scene and smiled, hiding the fact by putting his glasses back on. "...a little low. It presents itself like mild anaemia. Uh, you, you were, uh, lucky you got to her as soon as you did."

Buffy snorted. "Lucky? Stupid."

Xander spoke up. "Buff, it's not your fault." 

Buffy laughed bitterly. "Yes it is. It's all my fault, if I wasn't the Slayer."

Willow was suddenly hugging Buffy fiercely.

"No, never. Mom wouldn't want you to think that. It's not your fault."

"I should leave…Giles and me…we should leave…"

Now Simon and Xander were holding her as well. Xander hugging her and Willow, Simon all three of them.

"I don't want you to die as well…"

Simon sighed. "Buffy…do you really think your mother would feel better if you left? Do you really think, that even with all that is going on, she would not rather know, and have you close and offer what support she can? And if a time comes…she would not want to know how, where and when?"

Buffy started to tremble and then cry, whispering softly, over and over to herself. "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die."

Simon groaned and drew her close. "Buffy…I'm so sorry."

"No...No it's alright."

"No it isn't, it's the greatest wrong on earth. And I spoke without thinking."

Buffy's eyes were ringed with black circles as her mascara ran and streams of make up wet and sticky marred her fair skin. "You're not going to talk about my destiny? Responsibility? The Chosen One?"

Simon glared at Giles who flinched. "No. Old men in offices in London can speak about that to salve their conscience. All I can think of is that I would love to rock and sing your children to sleep as you grow old beside someone you love."

Buffy's tears and sobs were no longer soft and restrained but a full bore passionate storm of grief and fear and she felt herself drawn into the immaculate linen depths of Simon's chest, Willow and Xander backing away slightly, hands anxiously touching her shoulders as she felt Simon's hands on her, one rubbing her back, the other petting her hair as he whispered such words of comfort at her as he could offer. She sobbed into his chest hard.

"It's not fair! It's not fair! It's not fair!"

"No. Children should be born healthy and live long and wonderful lives, safe and away from danger, grow into adults, have children of their own if they want them, and die old and fulfilled."

His voice was sad but steady. Willow looked at the two with anguish. Never had the mortality of the Slayer and the abject fear Buffy held in her heart been so clear to her.

"Mom…"

"Buffy…nothing that happened tonight is your fault…if Angel had not been close your mother would be dead. Whatever vampire gained entry would have killed her if he had not interrupted."

Buffy sobbed again. "What do I do?"

"_We_ tell her, and show her."

Buffy stiffened in his arms. "Nononononono! Please, no, she'll send me away…"

Simon put a finger to her lips, shutting of her frantic words and then tilting her head to make her eyes meet his. "Will not happen. We show her a vampire, you stake it. Heaven knows this place has enough of them. You have a fledgling watch every other night or so. I show her my magic. We tell her _everything_."

Buffy buried her face in his jacket and shivered, before asking in a tiny voice. "And what if she kicks us both out?"

Simon took a deep breath. "Then we will be together. If she abandons you…and I doubt that she will…I will not."

Buffy sighed, shaking herself, taking control. "First I need to find whoever did this. Suggestions?"

Giles cleared his throat. "The description will match many vampires, so I w-would suggest you start with asking Angel. He however, has the umm nasty habit of only showing up and being uh difficult to find.

Buffy nodded. "The Three found me near the Bronze and so did he. He lives nearby…I'll have a bit of a wander and a feel."

Simon smirked. "Do you really think now is the best time?"

Buffy groaned, thumping her forehead into his chest. "Parents are not supposed to say things like that!" Willow giggled and Xander groaned.

Simon shrugged. "I'm new at it. It's a good plan, if my opinion is worth anything." Buffy grinned up at him and withdrew from his arms. Willow took a towel from a cabinet and Buffy washed her face at the small sink in the little bathroom, accepting the towel with a smile.

Willow gave her an apologetic look. "W-we wouldn't be much use, would we?"

Buffy nodded. "You'd most likely get in the way…I'm not really happy to have you along when Mom…" She looked at the sleeping form of her mother.

Willow nodded and stepped towards the bed, biting her lip. "D-Do you mind if we stay? Xander and me I mean."

Buffy smiled. "I think mom would be very disappointed if you didn't." She winced. "I'd hate to explain to her where I went once she woke up…"

Xander put a hand on her shoulder. "We will, if we have to…Just be careful, ok little sister?"

Buffy nodded at him and he drew her into his arms for a moment or two before she went towards the door.

Giles stepped up to her as she was leaving; he'd been standing near the door thinking. "There was no dust?"

Buffy thought about what he meant and then shook her head. "No, nothing."

"That means she lives, if you get my meaning. And that means Angel could not, or would not destroy her." He paused, and then sighed. "The journals provided by Dr Meier and those of the Watchers describe Angelus' sire Darla as a very pretty young blonde…She would be about four hundred years old now. The oldest of the Master's living Childer…Almost as old and as powerful as the one you slew during the Harvest, who was apparently called Luke. But a lot more clever. I think this is gonna take more than a simple stake."

Buffy nodded slowly in agreement. "So do I. Time to break out the crossbow." 

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Darla was in his quarters when he returned from his vigil outside the hospital. Joyce was recovering and Buffy would be coming for him. This…situation would be difficult to explain. The blonde vampire rose gracefully from his couch. "She's out hunting you right now. She wants to kill you. Can't imagine why…"

Angel glared at her, face rigid with anger and hate and the indefinable emotions that made up the bond between Sire and Childe. "Leave me alone."

Darla let out a gentle laugh, so incongruous to someone who knew the evils she had done." What did you think? Did you think she would understand? That she would look at your face... your true face... and give you a kiss?" She grinned at the sadness on his face. He was her Childe. Others might think his face a marble statue; she knew every one of his moods, even now, with his…soul.

Darla continued, her voice soft and seductive and yet scathing." For a hundred years you've not had a moment's peace because you will no accept who you are. That's all you have to do. Accept it. Don't let her hunt you down. Don't whimper and mewl like a mangy human. Kill! Feed! Live!"

Angel snarled at her, pushed to the limit. Jumping up quickly he forced her back against the wall, her arms pinioned above her head. He noted that there was a tinge of arousal in her scent and another of fear. He smirked inwardly, she was not that sure of herself and…sadness? Why would Darla feel sadness? He ignored the mystery.

"Alright!"

Darla pouted at him and breathily spoke. "How forcefully masculine. What do you want?"

"I want it finished!"

"That's good. You're hurting me." She smiled. "That's good, too. It's been a while…"

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Giles looked around the room, taking in the scene and wondering what he was still doing here. His duty was to his slayer and she was outside, hunting. Neither of her young assistants was in any shape to help her. He momentarily wondered at the speed with which they had bonded with Buffy's mother, and to a lesser degree, Joyce's lover. But their emotional states made them more a liability than an asset at the moment. Not to mention the fact they were both sleeping. The only other person really awake was seated on an uncomfortable hospital chair, elbows on his knees, both hands folded in front of his mouth and was gazing thoughtfully at the bed that held Joyce Summers.

Giles rose from his own seat and walked to the older man, knowing that for understandable reasons that man did not trust the Watcher's Council. And that he needed to convince him he was no threat to the girl he apparently wanted to make his stepdaughter at the earliest opportunity. "Do you trust me to go help her?"

Simon gave him a measuring look, finally removing his hands. "I think you've realised that Buffy is a Chosen Champion, to be supported, not used…Not a weapon. A force for good, who can achieve much if she gets the help she needs. But she is still only a girl, alone and afraid and anxious."

He shook his head. "I'm far too emotional right now for my magic to be of use to her, and I'm too old to get into fist fights with vamps." He gave Giles smirking smile. "So that leaves it to the slightly younger generation." His gaze rested on Dawn, asleep on the spare bed, Xander in a chair beside her, dozing. Willow was sitting next to Joyce, her head resting on the mattress next to the woman she had adopted as a mother. Joyce's hand had somehow moved in her sleep and was resting on Willow's head.

"The youngest generation will stay here. They'd be of little use in their present condition." He gave Giles a weary look, which the younger man understood perfectly.

"Too emotional." Suddenly curiosity overcame the Watcher. "H-has that ever?"

"Happened to me before? No…I've never allowed myself to get this emotionally invested…If I saw Buffy…in danger, after Joyce, and trying to cast on a Hellmouth…I've no desire to be Sunnydale's Darth Vader." He took a deep breath. "But she'll need back up."

Giles nodded. "Even if only a distraction. I'll go."

"Giles…my guards outside, by the car. Ask them for a number one bag."

Giles nodded and swiftly left.

**I was wondering if I got the children's reaction down well. What do you think? Chapter cuts off just before the action… I know, I'm awful.**

**Below is the Silly version of the Author's note…I don't know who I was channelling, but I think it has to do with a private review from Roth which has me all happy.**

**I hope I made it sufficiently clear that Simon **_**only**_** got to Buffy because she was overconfident and he had experience sparring with a previous Slayer. This is one Reason (note upper case R) Simon is from New York. Simon is not supernaturally fast, or strong, or even exceptionally good at martial arts. (Marital arts however… ehem. Focus) He does have years of experience, (Indeed he does…argh, focus) he is older after all, but age is slowing him down. ( I hadn't noticed…) He's as good as years of training and a modicum of talent can make him, (More than a modicum…) but he is not championship material. (Only because there are no championships for that…) **


	18. Chapter 18

**Kindly read and review: Are the characters in character? And is the action**** acceptable? My apologies for the large amount of material taken from the episode.**

**For reasons I hope to make clear at a later time I felt it necessary to use so much of it. I hope you enjoy reading it nonetheless.**

_Chapter 19: Catfights and confessions_

The Bronze was dark and silent as Buffy stood contemplating it, crossbow at the ready. A hole in the fence gave her entry and moves towards the closed metal door. The sound of glass breaking got her attention and she snorted at the obvious trap. But an obvious trap might be used to turn the tables. She had noted the ladder, the fire escape, on previous outings. Shrugging she climbed the rusted and creaking steps one handed, still hefting her crossbow.

Buffy looked at the darkness. "I know you're there. And I know what you are."

Angel winced. "Do you?"

She faced his voice. Lifting an eyebrow ever so slightly…and winking?

Angel wondered at that, but the fear was still there. "I'm just an animal, right?"

Buffy grimaced. "You're not an animal. Animals I like." She mouthed at him. "Work with me." And suddenly he understood: she knew. She knew he was a vampire and she was willing to listen to him. And she was going to kill Darla. Not that he could blame her really.

Buffy kept looking around cautiously and Angel realised she knew Darla was here as well, just like he could feel his Sire, Buffy could feel the dark power wafting of the older vampire. He growled and stalked out of the shadows to face her. She trained the crossbow on him.

Angel growled. "Let's get it done!"

He ran, letting the demon come to the fore, jumping onto a pool table, feeling the crossbow as it tracked him; saw the slight waver as she made sure to miss him. A fierce grin and jump onto the catwalk above. He knew she was not practiced enough with her Slayer abilities to see into the shadows here. He smirked. * Well I do have to make this look good for Darla…*

Swinging down he kicked her in the back, forcing her into the pool table, but she was fast and probably expecting something like this because she kicked him in the chest, a neatly executed standing back kick and he flew into the wall with a thud.

Her position and move did give him a very nice view however. He shook himself and rose, as she ran around the table to pick up the crossbow his kick had made her drop, rolling down towards and grabbing a bolt while drawing back the string in one fluid motion. She was holding it when he closed in on her, growling at the discomfort in his back and chest, but noting, with a twinge of anxiety, she favoured her own back. 

It was still dark in the Bronze. Angel stood towering over her prone slim form in game face, Buffy was lying on her back with her crossbow trained on him. Angel morphed back into his human form.

Angel smiled. "C'mon! Don't go soft on me now! This is a beautiful Mexican stand off."

Buffy launched the bolt. It flew just past his ear to strike the wall next to him.

Angel did not even blink. "Little wide. You need to practice with that…if you get the time."

Buffy winced inwardly, that remark had hit a little too close to home. "Why?"

She rolled to her feet, fast enough he could not take advantage of the situation. "Why didn't you just attack me when you had the chance? Was it a joke? To make me feel for you and then... I've killed a lot of vampires. I've never _hated_ one before." The way she said hated made it clear to him that hate might not be what she was feeling.

Angel tried to hide the hope in his voice. "Feels good, doesn't it? Feels simple."

Buffy rolled her eyes, happy in the knowledge that no one could see enough in the darkness to see that, not even a vampire. *Simple…yeah right.* "I invited you into my home and then you attacked my family!"

Angel eyed, wondering how he should reply. *How much did she know about him? He'd realised a few hours ago exactly who he'd faced in that basement room the night he stayed over, so she probably knew everything. He almost cringed in embarrassment again at the memory. And lying about it might warn Darla…The truth…however painful, had to be told.*

"Why not? I killed mine. I killed their friends... and their friend's children... For a hundred years I offered ugly death to everyone I met, and I did it with a song in my heart."

Buffy almost sniggered at the last part of that sentence, though she could feel histerrible guilt and anguish at his words. "What changed?"

Angel gave her a thoughtful look. "Fed on a girl about your age... beautiful... dumb as a post...  
but a favorite among her clan."

Buffy tried to keep her irritation in check. * Beautiful but dumb as a post…we'll have words later mister! Male chauvinist pig! HEY! Did he mean me?* "Her clan?"

Angel nodded. "Romany. Gypsies. The elders conjured the perfect punishment for me. They restored my soul."

"What, they were all out of boils and blinding torment?"

"When you become a vampire the demon takes your body, but it doesn't get your soul. That's gone! No conscience, no remorse... It's an easy way to live. You have no idea what it's like to have done the things I've done... and to care. I haven't fed on a living human being since that day." *Do not mention that you went back and slaughtered her clan even with your soul…won't go down well even if it might be put down under extenuating circumstances of being insane.*

Buffy gave a ladylike snort. "So you started with my mom? And then you were going to have my baby sister for desert?"

Angel smiled. He felt Darla quite clearly now and was certain Buffy did the same. "I didn't bite her. Nor so-not-a baby sister."

Buffy smiled back despite the seriousness of the situation and the crawling feeling of an old vampire at her back. "Then why didn't you say something?"

Angel noted Darla moving closer and sighed. More truth clad in half truths. "But I wanted to. I can walk like a man, but I'm not one. I wanted to kill you tonight."

*Part or me. The part that wants to have you forever; the demon. To give you the Vampire's kiss. The man...the man will settle for the kiss. Hell, I'll settle for a hug.*

Buffy looked at her bow and back at Angel. She put the bow down on the floor and walked towards him, hips swaying slightly more than when she normally walked. She tilted her head with the slightest of smiles, exposing her slender neck, moving away a stray wisp of hair that clung to it.

"Go ahead. Have a nibble."

Angel looked at her, stock still and frozen. Only a hundred years of experience kept his mouth from hanging open like a boy seeing his first real naked woman. He'd have to explain to her… one day, very carefully, just how much a Slayer, the girl…woman…he had feelings for, offering him her neck excited him even if he was not going to drink from her…it was one of the most erotic things he had ever experienced. He kept silent, not trusting his voice to work.

Buffy smiled at him almost coquettishly. "Not as easy as it looks, hmmm?"

And then she was there, blonde, tiny and svelte. "Sure it is!" Darla stepped out of the shadows "Do you know what the saddest thing in the world is?"

Buffy looked critically at the older vamp. "Bad hair on top of that outfit? Oh, oops, you got that one down."

Darla scowled. "To love someone who used to love you."

Buffy looked a bit sick. "You guys were involved? Eeeew… I thought she was like your mom!"

Darla blinked, surprised. "For several generations. How do you know I'm Angelus' Sire?"

Buffy looked at her fingernails, buffing them and looked at the vampire. "Well, you been around since Columbus, you are bound to pile up a few ex's. You're a lot older than him, right? Just between us girls, you are looking a little worn around the edges. And as for how I know, that's for me to know and you to guess."

Darla smiled gently at Angel. "There was a time when we shared everything, wasn't there Angelus? You had a chance to come home, to rule with me in the Master's court for a thousand years, but you threw that away because of her. You love someone who hates us. You're sick. And you'll always be sick. And you'll always remember what it was like to watch her die." She turned her smile to Buffy and now it was feral. "You don't think I came alone, do you?" 

Buffy grinned back, almost as feral as Darla. "I know I didn't." Kicking the bow into her hands she immediately brought it to bear on Darla.

Darla looked unimpressed. "Hmm, scary."

With a swift movement of both hands she brought forth two pistols from behind her back, almost like it was a magician's trick. She grinned wickedly at Buffy. "Scarier!"

Her hand moved slightly and her finger curled lovingly around the trigger. A bullet struck Angel, driving him staggering back onto a post.

Darla smirked at Buffy's reaction. "Oh, don't worry. Bullets can't kill vampires. Can hurt them like  
hell, but... "She giggled. "You know after I kill you I think I'll ask the Master if I can turn your mom. I'm starting to think she'd make a great vampire…Can you imagine? All that empathy turned to evil?" 

Buffy retreated, her face a mask of shock. Darla's guns fired and Buffy sought cover by doing a shoulder roll over one of the pool tables. 

Giles cursed as he heard the shots. He reached into his overcoat and came up with the .45 Magnum that had been in the amazingly well prepared Number one bag. Six wooden stakes, three litres of holy water, a quantity of powdered iron and three crucifixes of different size as well as a hand gun with several types of ammunition including silver, blessed and normal. It was a kit that made him grin and wonder exactly what those bodyguards were supposed to guard against. He shook himself and carefully but quickly went looking for a way into the darkened building.

Darla moved in on Buffy's position. "So many body parts, so few bullets. Let's begin with the kneecaps. No fun dancing without them."

She fired off a few more rounds, and the pool table showed the effects. From his position near the wall Angel noted she was a lousy shot. Darla had never needed guns before.

It must take considerable will power to do so, most vampires felt an incredible urge to get up close and personal with their enemies getting into melee with them as soon as possible. He smiled as Buffy rose up from behind the table and fired her crossbow. The bolt missed Darla's heart, heavily striking her abdomen, forcing Darla to bend double at the shock of the impact. Buffy watched, reloading her crossbow as Darla straightened up.

Darla grinned viciously. "Close, but no heart. You know, for that, I'm going to take all your little family to meet the Master. I'm sure he'll just love Little Dawnie, he has a particular fondness for children. He likes to play with them for ever and ever…" Grabbing the bolt with some difficulty while holding her gun she drew it out and tossed it aside. She noted Buffy's whitened grip on her crossbow, saw the strain on the girl's face.

"And then there's Willow…Master will love Willow, he likes them clever. And she's ever so pretty too. I'm sure she'll squeal nicely." Her maddeningly cheerful voice was apparently getting to Buffy.  
"And I'm sure Xander'll need hardly any training at all before he'll be all submissive…"

Buffy growled.

Giles crawled along the floor, bottle in hand and took up position on one knee, taking careful aim. He let fly. A sudden move from Darla made the small vial strike the vampire's arm, not her head. Darla screamed and smoke rose from her as the blessed water burned her undead flesh.

Darla turned towards him and let loose a hail of bullets. Giles managed to duck behind another pool table but noted that he really did not care for the feeling of getting shot at. Darla turned away from him, jumped onto the pool table, once more going after Buffy.

Giles cursed. The thin glass vials had broken in his coat pockets during his dive behind the table and he had no safe way left to engage the vamp. The vampire started firing, Buffy reacted immediately, jumping up and pulling the table towards her, unbalancing the demon and knocking her on her back. Immediately pushing the table away again brought Darla down again, allowing Buffy to leap up high and over a glass cabinet in a dive roll, the glass shattering as she landed and Darla fired from her recumbent position. She rose immediately as the table stopped moving heading towards the bar where Buffy had sought refuge.

Angel carefully removed the bolt Buffy had fired at him from the wall, making certain the wooden shaft remained whole. Eying the fighting women he awaited his chance.

Giles had carefully moved to the light system and had managed to understand enough of it from his misspent youth that he turned on the strobes. Darla stopped her shooting and looked at him. Giles scurried back to the questionable security of the pool table. Buffy took the chance to take up a safer position behind the bar. Darla, spotting the move, fired another volley.

Darla sneered. "C'mon, Buffy. Take it like a man!"

Buffy shouted from behind the bar. "Sorry, I think that's more your thing." 

"What can I say? I'm kinky that way." Darla made a dive roll to the open end of the bar, rising fluidly, catching Buffy just as she was trying to tear a wooden rail to create a stake. She shot a bullet into the floor and Buffy dodged, barely, splinters striking her. The slayer lay on her back, eyes wide and breath shallow with fear. Darla aimed both her guns at Buffy and smiled again. "I'm really going to enjoy your family. I like your mom already."

Buffy twisted as Angel came up behind Darla, roaring, plunging the bolt into her back. The older vampire staggered and cried out in pain, turning to look back at her attacker, her eyes widening as she recognized him. "Angel?"

Falling to her knees, hands moving to the bolt Buffy saw tears coming from her eyes and to her shock a single word formed soundlessly on the old vampire's lips. "Mommy." With a quiet whisper she fell into dust, leaving Buffy to stare into the cold, hard face of Angel. She rose unsteadily, knees wobbling, seeing the vampire study the ashes before him and then look up at her for a few moments, before turning away and walking out. Buffy, speechless, watched him go.

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Joyce was still sleeping when Buffy came back to the hospital, driven there by Giles in his ancient, creaking Citroën. She smiled as she came into the room. Simon was sitting like a statue, watching her mother and Willow who had curled up next to Joyce on the bed, fluffiest held against her. Xander was sleeping a touch fitfully on a chair next to Dawn. Dawn was holding his hand and Buttons the monkey.

Simon rose, stiffly, walking towards her on his socks, enveloping her in a hug. She hadn't realised how much she missed being hugged by an adult male, by a father until the first time he had done that.

"Is it done?"

"Angel did it. It was Darla."

Simon stiffened. "Good lord."

Buffy smiled into his shirt. "You channelling Giles?"

"I will have you know I was Good Lording when Giles was still in diapers."

Giles coughed from the doorway. "You're not _that_ old."

"I was born old. Buffy…what are your feelings towards him?"

"Wha?" Buffy stiffened in his arms.

Simon gently pushed her away a bit so he could look her in the eye, but she tried to avoid his and he had to use a finger to get her to look up. "Buffy…he killed his Sire for you. That…that is an incredible sacrifice for a Vampire. Almost more than a human can understand. It is as if he killed his father and mother and entire family and erased his history. The bond between Childe and Sire is…intense."

"Well he slept with her." Buffy said it with a jealous undertone.

"Angelus did, not Angel, not Liam, at least not as he is now. If he was willing to do that to save you Buffy…that is proof of deep affection to say the least."

Buffy swallowed. "Oh…so what do I do?"

"Well, we wait until your mother is awake and home…then we tell her…and then we try to explain the fact the Slayer may have a thing for a Master Vampire with a Soul. And he for her."

Buffy looked up at him. "Y- you'll support me?"

Simon gave a rueful grin. "Buffy…there's a note in my grandmother's diary about him changing my diaper, feeding and burping me. I think that somewhere there is a picture of him playing with a nest of kittens." Then his smile grew malicious. "And of course there's the fact how he single-handedly kept down Chicago's rat population…"

Buffy looked confused. "Rat population? What?" Her face scrunched up as she realized what he meant. "Ohhh…..Eeeeeeew! Ewweewww. I kissed him!"

"I'm sure he brushed his teeth after eating." Simon teased.

Buffy punched his shoulder. "Nasty man."

"Hmm. The doctor says Joyce can be taken home tomorrow morning, but she has to take it easy for a day or two. I suggest we tell her after that."

Buffy sighed, leaning back into him. "Yeah. Thanks."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there to help you…I haven't really been in battle against vampires for a very long time…and it is dangerous for an unprepared magic user to cast on the Hellmouth."

"You ever going to explain about magic to Wills? She's bursting at the seams with curiosity. The whole Questor thing has her scared, but she really wants to know…"

Simon smiled. "It will be done. But again. Preparations need to be made…I can tell her more, I hope it will satisfy her curiosity."

Buffy sighed and he felt her shiver with weariness. "There's room next to Dawn. There's a nightshirt in your mother's bag."

"But…"

"Bed young lady, but shower first."

Buffy rolled her eyes, amused. "Yes 'daddy'.

She got the nightshirt and took a quick shower in the tiny cubicle, washing her hair with the shampoo Willow had brought, not caring it would be a rats' nest the next morning and then crawled into bed next to Dawn, yawning. Dawn immediately turned towards her and clung to her, taking a deep breath and seeming to calm even in her sleep.

Buffy smiled. "Hello lil' leech." She hugged her sleeping sister lightly and yawned again.

Simon had turned his back while she got into bed, but now he went to the bedside and tucked the blankets around the both of them, kissing their foreheads. He settled into the chair again, watching over Joyce and their children.

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The lights were on in the Bronze. Buffy noted the patches on the pool tables and the bar and the walls where the bullets had struck and repairs had been made. She was certain they were not extensive repairs. She wondered how the police had filed this. Attack by wild dogs carrying firearms? Giles had taken the guns and refused to tell her what he'd done with them. She sighed morosely as she stared at the teenagers and college students moving on the dance floor.

Xander extended his arms extravagantly. "Ah, the post-fumigation party."

Buffy smiled, realising he was fishing for a straight line. "Okay, so what's the difference between this and the pre-fumigation party?"

Xander winked at her. "Much hardier cockroaches." He put his foot down and there was a crunch. "And no more free drinks." Buffy made moue of disgust.

Willow grinned at the by play and then sobered. "So, no word from Angel?"

Buffy sighed, playing with the funky funny straw in the alcohol free cocktail in front of her. "Nah. It's weird, though. In his way I feel like he's still watching me."

Willow smiled. "Well, in a way he sort of is. In the way of that he's right over there."

Buffy followed Willow's gaze and Willow saw her fingers tremble as the little blonde saw the vampire watching them. Buffy looked at Willow and Willow nodded near imperceptibly. Buffy rose. Xander gently took her hand and gave her a nod. "You better tell him that bodice ripping is out…" He winked. "Gotta look out for my little sisters."

Willow elbowed him. "Dork."

"I prefer over-protective male chauvinist pig. OPMCP, that's me!" 

Willow and Xander followed Buffy with their eyes as she made her way to Angel, both with slightly worried expressions. Willow noted that the music playing was 'I'll remember you'. * I wonder if other people had appropriate sound tracks to their love life or if that's only Buffy. She certain she'd have gotten something like *

Angel moved towards Buffy and they met by a pillar.

Angel looked her in the eye, his gaze thoughtful. " I just wanted to see if you were okay. How's your mother. Dawnie?"

Buffy noted his voice had a tinge of Irish, she wondered if that happened when he got upset or emotional. "We're all good. Wills and Xander too. Simon is hovering like crazy. You?"

Angel smiled wryly. "If I can go a little while without getting shot or stabbed I'll be alright. Look, this can't..."

Buffy gave him a sad little smile. "...ever be anything. I know. For one thing, you're, like, two  
hundred and fifty-four years older than I am."

Angel ran a gentle finger down her cheek and she shivered. "I just gotta... I gotta walk away from this."

Buffy nodded slowly. "I know. Me, too." Her head dropped a little and then whispered at him. "One of us has to go here."

Angel whispered back, lifting her face with his finger. "I know."

They looked at each other a moment longer and then closed in to kiss. After a few moments it became rather more passionate. Buffy's hands trailed from his chest to his neck and lodged there in his hair, rubbing her thumbs across the base of his skull.

Willow smiled broadly and Xander sighed.

Xander looked around. "I think its bucket of cold water time myself."

Willow gave him a reproving glare. "Xander! They're just kissing!"

Xander snorted. "That's not just kissing. That's to kissing what a pit dug on the beech is to deep core mining. For tonsils."

Willow rolled her eyes, but giggled in spite of herself. "Oh, you, you OPMCP."

Xander looked at his watch. "Bet you a drink they'll not come up for air for two minutes."

"Deal."

Buffy felt like she was in heaven. Angel wasn't cold, he felt as warm to her as a living man. She didn't know how that could be. She did not feel a heartbeat and that was strange…but God, could he kiss. She started feeling lightheaded and Angel drew away. She gave him a dazed look out of glazed eyes. He seemed to be saying something.

"Hmmm?"

Angel smiled. "I asked if you enjoyed that."

Buffy nodded dreamily. "Hmmm. You okay?"

Angel sighed, his hands moving down her shoulders to the small of her back, halting suddenly above the curve of her buttocks. "It was wonderful…thank you…It's just..."

Buffy laid her head against his chest and whispered. "...painful. I know. See you around?" 

"I hope so…"

Buffy sighed, letting him go, her fingers trailing his as they parted and walked away, straightening her back as she went. Xander noted that he looked after her while Willow was concentrating on Buffy's dreamy expression, dreamy yet with tears in her eyes. Xander nodded once to Angel, touching the base of his throat. Angel nodded back, doing up his shirt where the silver cross he had given Buffy had left a raw burn. Xander grinned at Willow who grumbled and went to get the drinks. 

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Joyce Summers-Ellis was grouching. Ever since the ridiculous incident with the barbeque fork her family had been treating her as if she was made from spun glass. Right now Xander was bringing her tea. And they were all quite nervous around her.

"Buffy? Are you ever going to invite that poor girl back over? Darla?" Buffy sighed looking at Simon, who shrugged.

"Sorry mom, she's otherwise engaged." Joyce sighed, sipping her tea and giving Buffy a look that clearly meant the subject would be revisited.

Simon looked at the clock and then rather pointedly at the teens around the table. There was no reaction. Joyce smiled and leaned forward. "That doesn't work for you dear. Kids, bed."

Buffy looked up as if to protest. "Bed, young lady." Buffy pouted and Joyce gave her a stern look. "Save the ammo for a fight you can win and not for one without tactical or strategic importance."

Buffy giggled. "You sound like Aunt Arlene."

"Well she is my sister. Now, bed." Buffy sighed and finished her tea, Willow her herbal tisane. Willow held back for a minute as the others went up.

"My parents are going to be home in a few days, they'll be staying a week or two…" The redhead took a deep breath. "I think I –I need to spend some time with them, see how I feel…talk with them…about…you know."

Joyce exchanged a look with Simon and reached up to touch the girl's face. "We understand. You're welcome here whenever you want dear." Willow looked like she was going to say something then turned, lips trembling and left with a quavery goodnight at Simon. The adults looked at each other. Joyce sighed.

"You look a bit grouchy."

"I feel grouchy. I've been cooped up for two days and whenever I move someone jumps up to ask if I need anything."

"Want to go for a walk after you've tucked in the kids?"

Joyce raised an eyebrow. "Alone in the dark? You and me?"

"I can call Hurst if you wish."

Joyce pulled her lip worriedly. "I've heard more stories about gangs…"

"I'll call him." Joyce looked at him as he called the head of his bodyguards and sighed. She'd give the girls a few minutes to get ready. Buffy had been very anxious to get tucked in last night. The fear in her daughter's eyes had driven an even greater fear into Joyce's heart. And she still hadn't found the barbeque fork. She went upstairs first, checking in on Dawn who had Buttons tightly in one hand. Willow and Buffy were lying in bed and talking softly. Joyce sat down next to Willow first, tucking her and her disreputable bear in tightly, she kissed her forehead and smiled. "Only another week or two and you'll have your own room."

Buffy grinned. "Yeah, I'll finally be able to sleep again, no more snoring Wills."

"I do so not snore!"

"Oh? Who else you been sleeping with who can tell you that?" Buffy winked. Joyce sighed in exasperation. "Me. A few days ago, remember?"

Buffy shut up, but was still grinning, she snaked a hand out from beneath the blankets. "I'll miss you in here Wills." Willow reached her own hand out and touched Buffy's hand. "Miss you too." Joyce sighed again and put Willow's hand firmly under the blankets.

"Sleep!" She rose and tucked in Buffy. "You as well. Simon and I are going for a walk, don't worry, we'll take Hurst." The latter remark made Buffy close the mouth she had opened.

"Okay." Buffy winked. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Like passionately kissing an older man in public?" Joyce raised an amused eyebrow.

Buffy glared at Willow. "Wills!"

Joyce grinned. "Willow was discretion itself. I heard some girls at your school talking about the total eye candy salty goodness that you'd gotten 'lippy' with at the Bronze." She put a finger on Buffy's nose. "The rule still stands young lady, he gets properly introduced and he comes to dinner."

Buffy nodded, cursing her luck. "'kay mom."

"Sleep well loves."

As soon as Joyce had closed the door Buffy went and got dressed again, ready for patrol. She and Giles had, much to the Watcher's dismay and reluctance, selected a likely grave from which a fledgling was probable to rise. Simon was going to lead her there. Giles would be present as well. She sighed.

"What's wrong Buff?"

"I've got the terrible feeling my butt is going to host a party for a slipper pretty darn soon."

Willow giggled. "Oh come on Buffy…at least you've got da…Simon on your side."

"Wills...just call them 'mom and dad' and be done with it, 'kay ? And talk with them and your birth parents? 'cause this whole mo-Ms. Summers and da-Simon thing is getting old."

Willow blushed but grinned. "Okay."

"If you do it soon enough Xander owes me munchies. I'll share…"

Willow giggled. "Go you; you have a fledgling to slay."

"Yeah well…if that was all…I wouldn't be this nervous."

Willow lifted herself up on one elbow. "Come here." She hugged the blonde tightly. "Good luck."

Buffy sighed again and climbed out of the window, following the couple walking down the street. Hurst nodded at her politely and she once again wondered at the man's background, especially when he threw her a stake and then a small vial of holy water. She shrugged and moved ahead, sharing a look with Hurst as her mother drew Simon into the shade of a large tree. Apparently being cooped up all day made her mother crave smoochies.

She was sitting on a grave stone when the vampire rose. She swore. Now she'd have to keep it alive until her mother showed up. She hit it several times and the Fledge seemed amazed after a few minutes that it was still alive.

"Giles! Can we like tie wrap this guy? I'll need to shower again after this."

Giles spoke dryly from the shadows. "Won't work I'm afraid. May I point out again this might not be the best idea?"

"I'd rather tell her than have her find out some other way Giles. And at least this way I'll have back up."

She saw movement out of the corner of her eye. *Well finally. The woman has no right to talk about passionate kisses with older men.*

She moved the fledge around with a number of hard kicks so Joyce could see its forehead and then taking her stake, pounded it into the creature hard. The fledge broke apart in seconds. She blinked. * Why did it take Darla so long to fall apart? Do older vampires hold together better? Gotta ask Giles.*

Joyce shrank back against Simon as she saw what was happening, her little girl using fighting techniques she associated with Kung fu films on a guy…she hoped that was a mask…and then she…Joyce gagged and vomited when the vampire fell apart into dust. Simon held her hair as she knelt, trembling, by the side of a grave, the contents of her stomach coming forth until nothing was left but bile. Her eyes were wide and unfocussed on her daughter, who stood panting lightly in front of her; stake in hand, a fearful expression on her face.

"Mom?" It was the tiny frightened voice that did it. It was then that she realized this was demonstration, evidence. Everything her daughter had told her was true. The vampire slayer. Demons. She took a deep shuddering breath.

"That was a vampire?"

Buffy nodded. Simon whispered in her ear. "Yes, a newly risen one."

She glared at him. "You knew." She turned around and slapped him, hard, across the face. "YOU FUCKING WELL KNEW! You let my little girl go out here at night and fight those…those things! You asshole! You…Coward!"

Simon flinched under her verbal attack more than under the physical one and Buffy gulped. He'd drawn her initial ire; she knew from experience that once she'd worked through that she would be more rational and reasonable. And feel terribly guilty. She was the same way…it was the Johnson temper. She held her stake in both hands and called out.

"Mom…" She snapped the stake without effort. Then she took a standing jump and landed next to her mother fifteen feet away, only bending her knees slightly.

"Vamps are much stronger than normal people…" She reached out to touch her mother's arm imploringly.

"How did you do that?" Joyce flinched away from her daughter's touch and Buffy's face crumpled.

Giles stepped out of the bushes. "I can explain that Ms. Summers. In every generation a girl is born…"

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They sat at the dining room table and Joyce sipped tea, looking at the others with anger in her eyes. Rupert Giles winced as he felt his shin and thigh were he had received very hefty kicks. Simon still nursed the red mark on his cheek. Buffy had not been touched but was barely holding back her tears.

"So…a young girl is the chosen sacrifice of a bunch of old men in London to fight the forces of Darkness?" She said it sarcastically, looking at Giles.

The Watcher sat well out of reach of the woman, having developed a healthy respect for her strength and aim. Only the timely intervention of Buffy had saved him from having an ice bag in his groin rather than on his thigh.

"The Watchers' Council does not choose the Slayer; w-we uh do not know how the uh succession of the power works."

"No…you merely guide her to her death. How long does the usual Slayer live again?" She reached out a hand as Buffy's lip started to tremble, grabbed her daughter's hand firmly and pulled, drawing Buffy into her arms and onto her lap. The startled girl allowed it and snuggled happily into her mother's shoulder.

Giles winced. "Six months…on average."

"I see…and the longest serving?"

"Most recently…A girl named Nikki Wood. In New York in the nineteen seventies. About seven years."

"Seven years." Joyce's voice was hollow.

"Demons are drawn to the Slayer…she is a magnet for them if you will, drawing them away from the general population."

"Bait and trap in one." Joyce's voice was icy. "How do we stop it?"

Giles shook his head. "We can't. Buffy is the Chosen One. She can't _not_ do it, the essence of the Slayer will make her seek out demons and vampires, and it craves the hunt. And they will seek her out, so not training will not help, more likely hinder, her continued survival."

Joyce ran a hand down Buffy's hair. "There must be something…"

Giles looked genuinely regretful. "I'm afraid not Ms. Summers."

Joyce looked at the blonde curls she was playing with. "Can you give a reason why Nikki lived so long?"

Giles sighed. "She had a lover who helped and understood…a child to defend…a watcher who was more active than most…and allies."

"And Buffy? What are you offering Buffy?"

"She has allies. Willow's skills with computers…Xander's courage. Dr. Meier's magic and the knowledge gathered by his family. My guidance and the knowledge of the Watcher's Council."

Joyce looked at Simon. "Magic?"

"My family has been practitioning for generations. I'm not very powerful."

"Can you show me?"

Simon took out a match from the box beside the candles on the table and put it down. He closed his eyes drew in a breath. Very slowly the match rose into the air. He opened his eyes and Buffy expected to see the all white glow and was frightened to see they were slightly tinged with grey. She gasped. "Simon! Stop!"

With a shudder Simon released the power and the match fell. He stumbled from the table and vomited into the waste bin. Joyce looked in astonishment. "What? Does that always happen?"

Simon wiped his mouth on his handkerchief and drew a deep breath. "No…I was not…there's a Hellmouth located under and in Sunnydale, it perverts and corrupts the ambient magic. To those not used to it…the feeling is vile."

Joyce tentatively reached out a hand and touched his face. "White magic. So...you're a wizard?"

Simon shot Giles a dark look. "I wouldn't want to call myself that. Why don't you ask Dr. Giles here someday what happened to the Wizards."

Giles winced. Joyce gave Simon a thoughtful look. "Can it be removed? The thing that makes Buffy a Slayer?"

Simon rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Not that I know." He held up a hand. "But the only Slayer I've had the opportunity to study was Nikki." He smiled reminiscently. "And she was almost as difficult to keep sitting still as Buffy." Joyce grinned as her daughter stirred on her lap and she silenced her with a hand to her lips. Buffy grumbled but stilled.

Simon took the byplay in with a smile. "The notes from previous generations offer some insight, but not much. It might be possible, but you'd need a magic user with rather more strength than I can manage."

Joyce hugged Buffy and looked beseechingly at Simon. "Will you try?"

Simon looked at Buffy. "If she wants me to."

Joyce bristled. Simon held up a hand. "It is her decision. If I did it without her permission…"

Buffy grinned from her position on her mother's lap, head lying on her shoulder. "Hello Darth Vader?"

Giles snorted at the fact that Buffy had used exactly the same words to describe a fall into dark magic as Simon had earlier. Joyce gave him a look, and then sighed. "You're right." She hugged Buffy again, tightly. "I'm so sorry for not believing you dear." Buffy was the only one in the room who heard the soft whisper. She hugged her mother, being very careful not to use her Slayer strength.

Joyce sighed again, and then gave Simon a piercing look. "Allies…you helped this Nikki?"

"Yes."

"You'll help Buffy?" She was pleading now. "Even with the dark magic here?"

He gave her a crooked smile. "We had this conversation about Dawn some time back."

Buffy felt her mother stiffen and her heart beat speed. Then she whispered. "Thank you."

Simon reached out and she took his hand. "I'm much better at magic than I was when then. And there are ways, and I'm working on them, to protect from the lures and dangers of the dark."

Buffy felt Joyce's giggle start before she heard it. She deadpanned at her boyfriend. "Much anger in you I sense."

Simon groaned. "I never should have helped fund those bloody movies."

Giles had been sipping his tea and did a spit take. Joyce's eyes widened and Buffy gulped. Then Joyce squeaked. "You…"

"It seemed a good idea at the time. Redemption. Hope. Love." He looked wistful.

Joyce took a deep breath, turning back to the subject in hand. "I can't stop this can I?" Buffy took her hand and shook her head.

"I wish you could mom."

"So…we'll just have to make the best of it. Keep you as safe as we can, give you what help we can." Suddenly she stiffened again. "Buffy…these patrols of yours…_when _exactly do you do those?"

Buffy gulped. "Ummm…when I should be in bed?" She squirmed in her mother's grasp, which suddenly felt like iron.

"I see. We'll talk about that later young lady." Buffy winced. "Mom…I don't let anyone else come along…and yes Willow has asked. So has Xander."

Joyce hmphed. "I see. Well I'll expect instruction in how to deal with these creatures. Buffy…that little blonde girl…Darla…"

"She was a vampire."

"Oh." Buffy could feel her mother's sadness. "She seemed so sad, so lonely, and so happy when I… never mind."

"All that empathy…" Buffy whispered, her voice filled with fearful reminiscence.

"What was that dear?"

"Darla wanted to turn you. She said she could hardly wait to see you would be like."

Joyce paled. "A lesson in Vampire 101 is definitely needed."

Buffy hugged her mother. "I love you mom. I wouldn't know what to do without you."

Joyce hugged her back. "I love you too dear. Now it's time for bed. And tomorrow we work out some ground rules."

"Ground rules?"

"The old rules one and two still remain in force dear…we may just have to adapt them a little to the situation."

Buffy winced. "Ouch. Well…ummm I'm off to bed." She got up and looked at her mother hopefully.

Joyce laughed. "Fifteen minutes?"

"I can totally do fifteen minutes." Buffy lightly jumped up the stairs.

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Buffy ran into the room, a miniature whirlwind, throwing off her clothes. Willow lay looking at her. "Well?"

"She slapped Simon. She kicked Giles, twice, once in the shin, once almost in the nuts…would've gotten him too if I hadn't stopped her."

"And you? How was she about..."

"She's very upset…but…she told Simon to research ways to get me out of it…She held me and hugged me Will, and told me she was so sorry she didn't believe me the first time…And…She held me and hugged me and told me she loved me…" Buffy seemed stunned by the realization.

Willow smiled a bit uncertainly. "So everything is alright? With you and mom?"

Buffy ran to the bathroom in her robe. "Sorry, she's gonna be here in ten, I need a quick shower."

Willow sighed, looking at her teddy bear. "Well Fluffles…that's one hurdle taken. At least Mom's not going to send Buffy away." *I won't be so lucky…And poor Xander…Just when…*

The door opened and Joyce came in. Willow closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. Joyce looked at the haphazardly strewn clothes and sighed, starting to pick them up. She looked at the redhead and spoke in a calm, cool voice.

"That never worked for Buffy and Dawn, it's not going to work for you Willow. I know you're awake,"

Willow opened her eyes cautiously, her chin trembling, trying to control her tears. "Ummm…"

Joyce sat on Buffy's bed and folded her daughter's clothing. She turned sad eyes on Willow and asked a question in a gentle voice. "Willow…What happened to Jesse?"

Willow gulped. She'd expected…no feared to be told to pack her things and be out the door, at the very best being driven home. To be asked in a concerned voice after the friend of her childhood who she missed so much. She started to cry. Joyce was beside her in seconds, hugging her tight, whispering words of comfort.

"T-They t-turned him…B-Buffy tried to save him…A-And then… Xander had to s-stake him…"

"Oh…you poor things…I'll need to talk to Xander later. I hope he's getting some sleep." She put a hand to the redhead's face. "As you should soon…did you sleep at all so far Willow?"

"N-no…"

"Well, do try and get some sleep tonight, you've got a full day at school tomorrow and we don't want you falling asleep in class."

"Y-You're not kicking me out?"

Joyce started in surprise. "Of course not! Why would I do that?"

"B-because I didn't tell you a-bout B-Buffy…"

"Oh Willow…" Joyce pressed the girl's head into her shoulder and ran her hand down the back of Willow's head and hair. "Why didn't you tell me? Can you tell me that?"

"B-because Buffy was afraid you'd send her back to Overton…she was so scared…s-she cries in her sleep and she's had nightmares…" Willow felt Joyce stiffen and heard her stifle a sob.

"And because that is the reason you did not tell me…that is why I'll never kick you out. You look after Buffy. You watch her back. Like a sister." Willow sighed and dug her way deeper into Joyce's arms.

"I always will! I promise! And Dawn and Xander too!"

Joyce chuckled. "Well then…all that remains is for my tardy daughter to come back from showering and I'll tuck both of you in again." Willow nodded her assent and yawned.

Buffy entered in her robe, her hair wrapped in a towel and saw the scene. She grinned, but she wiped it off her face quickly when Joyce raised her head at her. A slight smile played around her mother's lips. "Fifteen minutes, hmm?"

Buffy fidgeted with the belt of her robe and looked down. "Sorry…it just felt good…"

"Nice and warm and relaxing? Get all the tension out?"

Buffy nodded, fidgeting again. Joyce looked at her. "Is there a problem Buffy?"

"I…ummm…still have to change…"

"Yes? Buffy…I gave birth to you…trust me…I've seen you naked. And I can turn my back with the best of them, as you've found out." The last was said with self deprecating irony.

Buffy rolled her eyes. Joyce looked away with a grin and Willow had her eyes closed. Buffy took off the robe, changed quickly and got into bed. Joyce gave Willow a last hug and tucked her in. She then rose and did the same for Buffy, but she trailed a finger along a thin white line on her daughter's arm.

"We'll talk about the scars later dear."

Buffy gulped. * She knew! She knew why I didn't want to change in front of her…*

Joyce gave her a gentle kiss. "Sleep my little Buffy, and don't worry. I'll always want you." She left the room before she started crying.

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Simon had ushered Giles out, telling him to keep the icepacks and give them to Buffy in the morning, closed the door and went up the stairs. He was lying on the bed when Joyce came back from tucking in Buffy. "Joyce…if you want me to I can …" She got into bed next to him and put a finger to his lips.

"You stay right here." She gave him a hard look. "How long have you known?"

He gazed at her calmly. "Since the day you and I met."

"And you kept it from me. Why?"

"Because Buffy was afraid to tell you…"

Joyce swallowed. *Two persons telling you the same thing…Overton really messed with your little girl Joyce…* "Oh…I thought that might be it…" She turned away from him and tears started from her eyes. He grabbed her and turned her to face him again.

"Joyce. You already cried for what you did…Just be glad she didn't run away after you were attacked…that was her first reaction."

Joyce stiffened. "Run away? Why?"

"To keep you, Dawn, all of us safe. She was all set to kill the vampire that attacked you and leave town with Giles."

"L-leave? Never!"

Simon smiled. "Well I do think she'll want to move out eventually…But I know what you mean…Joyce, you were sedated…she was so scared you wouldn't believe her, that you'd send her back to Overton…send her away."

Joyce laid her head on his chest and he hugged her tight.

"Marcel?"

"He's my psychiatrist…he's known for decades…Joyce…Everything you heard in that office was true…the crimes were just not done by humans but by vampires."

"Why didn't he tell me?"

"Would you honestly have believed him? Nobody I know has wanted to believe just because I told them, because of evidence they read about…It's not an easy thing to believe Joyce."

"How long have you known?"

"I was trained in magic since the age of two…I was a great disappointment to my father in that as well."

"Two…And you've been fighting these things for how long?"

"Officially…since I was eighteen…unofficially…fifteen."

"And the gang I spanked Buffy for?"

"Vampires too. And don't feel guilty about that…you were perfectly correct. Buffy knew Xander and Willow and us, for that matter, were out there. None of _us_ would've stood a chance if _she_ had to run from them. I bought those mobile phones for exactly such an occasion."

Joyce sighed. "What do I do now?"

Simon lay still for a bit, thinking. "Rail at the universe for its unfairness, curse any and all gods you care to think of, impugn the powers that be for their uncaring heartless natures, take out your anger on Giles, or me….but realize that Buffy…is a victim in this, not a perpetrator."

She sighed again. "I must remember that she can't help herself now…she has to hunt…to protect…she used to play super heroine with Celia when they were younger….Buffy was always the rescuer…never the rescued."

Simon chuckled. "Celia must have got heartily sick of that after a while…"

Joyce smiled. 'There may have been one or two…confrontations."

"Joyce…I don't know how the Powers that be choose their Champions…I wish I did…some of their choices seem…moronic to me…but…"

Joyce lifted her head, her eyes flashing in anger and her voice hissing. "Moronic? You think Buffy can't be their Champion? You think she isn't good enough?"

"Joyce…there's usually more than one…"

Joyce blinked. "You?"

"I don't know…If I am it is another moronic choice…but my father certainly."

"YOUR FATHER? The womanizing child beating drunk?"

"Yes. But what I was trying to say was that I think that Buffy, despite what we may think about it personally, will be a great Champion."

"And how do you figure that?"

"She already defeated a very powerful master vampire and several rather unusual opponents, including a very powerful witch."

"Oh…you really think so?"

"I know so…and we will be there every step of the way to help her, the best we can."

Joyce leaned on her elbow, looking at him, taking in the seriousness of his expression. She traced the redness of his cheek where she had slapped him. "I'm so very sorry for that. All you did was look out for me, look out for Buffy…and you'll keep doing that."

He nodded.

Joyce drew his head to her breast "Willow and Xander? Dawn?"

"Yes. All of you"

She smiled a trifle sadly. "You've been alone too long love, to fall so hard so quickly."

She felt his smile against the silk of her nightgown. "You cannot imagine."

"What about Xander and Willow…they knew…they go out there and fight…"

"They're mostly moral support and research strength. Willow's erm…abilities with computers…come in useful."

"You mean she's a hacker…I really have to have a word or two with that young lady."

"She's also a witch, or at least, must be trained as one…as is a classmate of theirs…Amy Madison…I promised to train them."

Joyce sighed. "Great. Does this mean Sheila Rosenberg will show up and try and turn me into a frog for stealing her daughter's affections?"

"Sheila Rosenberg will never use magic again." Simon's voice was sad.

Joyce blinked at the tone. "Oh…does this have anything to do with you not telling Willow she's your cousin?"

"Yes…there's…history between Sheila and me…a lot of history."

Joyce groaned. "Don't tell me Willow's your daughter…."

Simon laughed. "No. I swear. I'd love to be able to claim her…but no. I'll tell you…but I'd prefer to do it in the light of day."

"Are you sure you've got no kids? I mean, with your track record…"

Simon looked thoughtful, and then shrugged. "Its possible I suppose, but unlikely. The conception would have to have been before 1966. One of them would have shown up by now, claiming a birthright.."

"True…so no skeletons in the closet?"

"No children that I know of…Joyce?"

"Yes?"

"If I'm wrong…"

"They'd be welcome here."

"Thank you. Ummm…I need to ask a favour…"

"What?"

"There's a tradition in my family…in teaching magic…when the apprentice disobeys or casts magic when not allowed…there's physical punishment…" 

"You want my permission to spank Willow? And this Amy girl?" Joyce looked amused.

Simon flushed. "Errr…no."

Joyce looked at his embarrassed face and grinned. "Oh…you want me to do it…Afraid of two teenage girls?"

"What, you _want_ me to do it?"

Joyce shook her head. "No…it will be better if I do it…I don't think it will be necessary, but I doubt they'd like baring themselves to you…" She grinned wickedly.

Simon flushed even deeper. "Errr…"

Joyce sniggered. "Oh dear…Amy's crushing?"

Simon nodded. "I think she might be a little…"

"You poor thing…Well we'll just have to disappoint her….gently."

"Thank you."

"Oh, it's a good trade, you keep our children safe, I spank your naughty apprentices…" She drew a pattern on his chest with a finger. "One of whom likes her master a bit too much maybe…"

Simon gave her a look. "Jealous?"

"Very…" She lightly kissed his lips by bending her head forward, then she drew his face upwards and looked into his eyes. "This doesn't mean I'm not still angry. Or upset. I am. But I want you to tell me everything."

He nodded. "I will. But it will take a long time, so you'll have to bear with me."

She drew him in for a kiss and then settled into his warmth. "We'll start tomorrow. Tonight…we need to get some sleep."

**Author's note:**

**The episode transcripts used can be found on: **

** But I still don't know who made them…**

**Simon helping to fund Star Wars comes from the scramble that Lucas made for money to produce the first movie. I hope I may be forgiven for the blasphemy of claiming he had something to do with it… **


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's note: **

**Last chapter Joyce finally learned of Buffy's Slayerhood. I hope you all, or at least most of you, enjoyed it, found it believable at the least. It always seemed a waste of a perfectly good episode to me, not to use it to inform Joyce. As if they wanted to feed her to the nightlife at a later time.**

**I fear we're still stuck in the "reproduction of episodes bit, but we'll pass beyond it after we deal with the matters of **_**I robot, You Jane**_**. Mostly. Some dialogue is just to neat to be passed up…**

**Here we have a continuation I hope will make sense and be enjoyable. Reviews are still welcome!**

_Chapter __20: Of Moms and Mothers_

Three rather subdued teens, a rather subdued ten year old and a rather subdued fifty two year old gentleman sat at the dining room table in the Summers house eating breakfast in a formal way, with place settings and napkins. Joyce had slept badly and risen very early, told Simon to stay in bed and had prepared the repast.

The meal now finished, except for Willow sneaking bits of cheese, she sat at the head of the table while Simon sat opposite her, prepared to lay down the rules. Dawn and Willow sat at her right, Buffy and Xander at her left.

"To say I'm not happy about this is an understatement…But I can't say that the situation is not also my fault…If I'd been more open minded and willing to believe…" She looked at Buffy. "I understand your reasons for wanting to keep silent…the last time you told us…me…I understand and I forgive you."

Buffy nodded a relieved smile on her face.

She looked at Simon. "We will talk later about parents taking responsibilities, like adults, to tell each other important things about their children. If one of the children had been drinking, you'd have told me…and I know the analogy is flawed, but we will lay down some rules for parenting as well. Later."

Simon inclined his head in grave acceptance.

Joyce looked at the children. "Now…ground rules. First I want to make it clear, you live under this roof, you abide by these rules… You all know rule one: No actions to hurt a sibling or another person. Those are almost inevitably spanking offences. This includes the worst such offences of a psychological nature."

Xander raised a hand. "Err...may I ask what you mean?"

"Of course Xander. I mean bullying, hitting out verbally against a persons weaknesses…I'm certain there are words and phrases that would hurt you deeply, and we may on occasion unintentionally hurt each other…but to do so intentionally…"

Xander nodded, thoughtfully. "I see."

"Second ground rule has been changed." Buffy perked up.

"Recklessly endangering yourself is still a spankable offence…if it is done by bad planning or true recklessness. That means that storming in to save a victim because otherwise that person would die is…"Joyce gulped and Buffy reached out a hand to take hers, squeezing lightly. Joyce nodded gratefully. "…allowed, if not always encouraged. I won't be patrolling with you…I'm not in any shape to do so, but I will be listening and I will be talking to Simon and Mr. Giles."

She met Buffy's eyes and the girl nodded. " 'K Mom."

"You will strive for backup…Simon's bodyguards are aware of the supernatural and have volunteered to help you. Simon…says he thinks you three may have some great mystic predestined role to play…but he also says prophecy can be so much hogwash…So I don't know what to do with you two." She looked at Xander and Willow.

She took a deep breath. "So here's my offer…I won't be able to keep you out of this…even if I don't approve of your reasons. Vengeance is not a good motivator…you'll be allowed to participate, as far as Buffy, Simon and Mr. Giles are willing to let you. BUT…all of you, including you Buffy…Will take self defence and fighting lessons with Leo...Mr. Hurst and his men."

Xander and Willow perked up, Buffy looked interested.

"I understand Simon will be teaching you magic Willow?"

"Y-yes?"

"All the rules stand for magic use…I've agreed with Simon to be his _executioner_…I'm sure you understand what I mean."

Willow gulped, paling. "Yes ma'am." Buffy grinned slightly at her redheaded sister's reaction.

"Buffy…you will tell an adult, me Simon, Mr. Giles, not just one of the guards except in an emergency, if and when you're going out to patrol. If you're running late, you will call in at the earliest opportunity. Hurst will be training you in tactics and communications."

Buffy scowled. "Why can't Giles do that?"

"Because he wasn't SAS. This is non negotiable Buffy."

Xander put a hand on Buffy's arm, silencing her response. "Buff…hush. Mom? Hurst was in the SAS?"

"Yes…Simon seems to have recruited an interesting group of former Special Forces personnel…"

Xander nodded. "She'll take it."

Buffy turned to him. "What?"

"It's like being trained by a navy seal, only British and Airforce."

"No, the Seal's Mr. Botley, who's usually on nights. He'll be part of the training regimen as well."

Buffy gulped. "Ah crap."

"Buffy, language!" Joyce and Simon chorused, sending the children off into laughter. After a few moments Joyce re established order.

"Rule three: All of you will make certain Dawn is not in anyway involved, Dawn you will not involve yourself until, and even then only maybe, you're a good deal older. You will however, be taking self defence classes with Mr. Hurst."

"MOM! That's so not fair!" Dawn's whine could have cut glass.

"Dawn…the only reason Buffy is not locked in the basement right now is that this is something that can't be helped…in her case. YOU are not a Chosen…and after this you and I will sit down and I'll explain to you exactly what it means to be Chosen…and…" Joyce swallowed heavily. "and…" Tears started flowing and she rose.

"Excuse me…" She left hurriedly, leaving the others to look after her retreating form.

Simon sighed. "That went better than I expected…All of you…You've taken on the responsibilities of adults with the very knowledge you've gained and the actions you've taken…act like ones. Don't run of half-cocked…don't act without thinking. And please to something remember what it would do to Joyce if she lost any of you…" He rose as well, leaving the children alone.

Dawn looked at Buffy, her face pale. "Why was mom crying?"

Buffy swallowed. "I-I Dawn…Mom said she'd talk to you…and…Well…"

Dawn nodded, understanding. "And you'd rather not risk getting her dander up, yeah…ok."

She crossed her arms. "Still not fair. Willow's going to be a Witch, you're the Slayer…"

Xander reached over and ruffled her hair. "Don't worry Dawn…we'll be the voice of reason and normality in the family…"

Willow and Buffy laughed. They cleared the dishes into the dishwasher and walked to the bus stop.

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Joyce was lying on her bed, sobbing when Simon came in. He sat down at her side and ran a hand over her back and hair. *What I do for Dawn and Buffy and Willow when they're crying…*

"Joyce…you're a blooming marvel…To be able to give them love and support…to do and say the things you did after just finding out…a miracle."

Joyce rose from her pillow. "She's going to die Simon…my baby is going to die…nothing I can do will prevent that!"

Simon smiled a sad little smile. "Every parent knows their children are mortal…we can only hope to out live them…Joyce…this…I never had children for this very reason…I can't truly imagine what you're going through…but I'm here, for whatever you need…including punching bag."

"I won't hit you again Simon…but you will never keep secrets from me again!"

"Oh, I will..."

"What?" Joyce's voice was dangerously low and almost growled.

"I will keep secrets from you for years. Birthday presents. Christmas presents. Anniversary presents." He winked. "But never again about things like this. I promise."

Joyce thumped his arm. "Dork. You know what I mean. And we aren't married yet."

"Well, I can think of a few things we've done I want to celebrate on a yearly basis…"

"Simon!" Joyce blushed and smiled. "Dork."

Simon smiled back. "You got Hurst's Christian name out of him?"

Joyce looked up through her lashes and smiled coyly. "I used my feminine wiles. He's partial to ginger snaps."

Simon put a hand to her face. "And you wonder why I love you…Miller?"

"Ezekiel Washington Fairfax…I understand why he goes by Miller…"

Simon grinned. "Blooming miracle, that's what you are." He kissed her soundly. "I'll take you to the gallery."

"Only if you can drop me off at the School this afternoon…I need to talk to Rupert Giles…"

"Do try to let him live dear, the next one they send may not be as pleasant."

"Oh, this isn't about Buffy. It's about Willow."

Simon blinked, but did not question her further.

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Lunch break was upon Sunnydale High. A woman in a turquoise skirt and jacket, her golden blonde hair in a halo around her face strode decisively through the hallways, wearing low heeled pumps and the barest minimum of make up. A light green purse, two small turquoise earrings and a looped golden necklace completed her look. Numbers of teenage boys swallowed heavily as she passed by. One or two teenage girls did the same. There were whispers. It was noted that Willow Rosenberg smiled at the woman brilliantly and that the woman stopped for a moment to talk to the shy redhead, who babbled until a soft touch from the woman stopped her. And instead of being embarrassed Willow smiled that smile again.

The strange woman then moved through the crowded corridors like a shark tracking a tasty treat. Jenny Calendar saw her entry into the library, saw the way the woman squared her shoulders and felt her heart sink. *Well…so much for Rupert being available.* She shook herself. *With my life, and Rupert's there's no chance of anything.* She stalked to the teachers' lounge in a bad mood. About halfway there she turned and retraced her steps to the library.

Rupert Giles was sitting at his desk in his office when there was a knock. He absent mindedly looked up. "Uh…Come in?"

Joyce Summers entered, pinning him with a look. Giles swallowed heavily and put his hands over his groin reflexively and eyed the two ice bags he'd borrowed the night before. She closed the door behind her with decision and sat down uninvited. "Dr. Giles…I may not remember much from my time in the hospital…but there are some snippets."

Giles started fidgeting under her gaze. "Uh…umm…Snippets?" *Oh Bugger.*

"I don't think there is anything between you and Buffy…you are not, if you'll forgive me, her type. She goes for jocks and bad boys." Giles opened his mouth and Joyce held up hand to stay his words. "You're not her type…now. Willow…Willow might just develop a crush on you."

Giles took of his glasses, pulled out his polishing cloth, breathed on the lenses and rubbed, flushing furiously.

"You're an attractive man, she is in your company a lot and her current crush is…not interested. There's nothing we can do to prevent this." She pinned him with a glare. "But if I find even the smallest encouragement or impropriety…your balls will be on the menu. Do you understand?"

Giles swallowed heavily. "I-I assure you Ms. Summers, that though uh Willow is a lovely girl, my um, feelings towards her are entirely p-platonic, avuncular if you will. She's a tad young for me." *Oh dear…I might have worded that better.*

Joyce lifted her eyebrows. "I see. Just a tad?"

There was a knock. Giles looked at Joyce who nodded. He put his glasses back on. "C-come in?"

Jenny Calendar opened the door and took in the scene. The woman was not in any way disheveled. She was sitting, primly on a chair quite a distance away from Rupert. She was not even looking particularly friendly towards him. Jenny relaxed just a tiny fraction.

"Jenny! I mean Ms. Calendar! What brings you here?"

Jenny leaned against the doorjamb. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

The strange woman looked at Rupert in an appraising way, then at Jenny herself. Then she rose. "No…Mr. Giles and I were done." She leaned forward a bit and shook hands with Giles, who seemed to blush. "Goodbye Mr. Giles. Thanks again for running the Home work group."

Giles nodded uncomfortably. "Ah…uh…my pleasure Ms. Summers." * Dear lord…she did not just…'Go get 'em tiger'?"

Jenny relaxed and felt a little foolish. *Ms. Summers…Buffy's mother, Xander's foster mother. Got a rowr-worthy older boyfriend. Not a threat. Oh god…You're in trouble girl.*

Ms. Summers walked to the door and mustered Jenny. The younger woman fidgeted. "Ms. Calendar…I'd like to thank you for all the extra time you spend with Willow."

Jenny nodded. "It's my pleasure Ms. Summers." Then the actual words that Ms. Summers had spoken registered. Jenny blinked. *Willow? Dear me…I wonder if…I need to look into this…Why's Ms. Summers inquiring after Willow? And if…oh dear…she was here to make Rupert aware of the risks of hanky-panky with her daughter. Daughters?*

She grinned suddenly. "Willow is a lovely girl. It's a pity Buffy isn't more interested in IT, but she'll come round I think."

Ms. Summers gave her another look, then her gaze rested very briefly on Rupert and Jenny felt herself bristling. *Dammit Jenny! Control! He's not yours yet! She's not even _interested_!*

Suddenly she felt a hand on her arm and…*Did Ms. Summers just wink and mouth…'Down girl'?*

"Well it was pleasure speaking with you both, and thanks to you both again for all the time you take with my children. I've no doubt we'll speak again in the future about the way you deal with both my daughters and my son, Dr Giles… Have a nice day."

Jenny swallowed. "I'll walk with you. Bye Rupert. I'll come talk to you later." She could have sworn that Ms Summers threw her a disappointed look. Jenny decided to flee to the Teacher's lounge instead of walking the older woman all the way out.

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Rupert Giles sat in his office with his head in his hands. His library, his Sanctum Sanctorum was being invaded by the dread multi-headed hydra that was technology. He'd had enough of that in the British Museum, thank you very much. The worst thing was she was going to be there. He never felt sure of himself around her. He might act it, but he never had the supreme self confidence around her that she did around him.

The only times he felt he held the advantage was when he acted in the way his grandfather had treated his grandmother; with old fashioned old world courtesy. If only…If only he were younger, she were older, she knew about magic, he felt better about technology…If only the world were simple. And that dratted Summers woman. 'Go get 'em tiger.' As if she seriously believed that he had a chance with Jenny.

There were noises. He groaned, she was here. With the legions of hell. And Fritz. Fritz had to count as a legion of hell all on his own. Rupert Edmund Giles got up to face his destiny.

The project to scan part of the library was a class assignment and all those who took Miss Calendar's Comp Sci class had to pitch in. Even those who felt they spent too much time in the library already and those who felt one could not spend too much time in a library. And of course, Miss Calendar herself.

Jenny Calendar ran her hand down the dark blue velvet binding a book in Rupert's office and sighed. Love poems by Donne. Rupert had said they were a tad too racy for American parental tastes and that the edition was his own anyway. She loved the feel of the velvet under her fingers and wondered how the wondrous erotic phrases would sound if Rupert read them to her…he probably knew most of them by heart. *Lady, license my roving hands…Down girl. Pay attention to the students, before they wreck a scanner or, heaven forbid, dog ear a book.*

She rolled her eyes and went back into the main part of the library. She saw Buffy was opening crates and boxes of newly arrived books. Rupert sure ordered a lot of them. Was that a copy of the _Ritualis Cretanensis_? What the hell would a high school library need that for? It was probably an entirely different book. She hoped. Rupert would probably laugh at hearing the rituals in the book might work…If it was real she'd need a way to get it to safety…

Buffy opened another box. She drew her face into an attractive grimace and said in a clear sarcastic voice. "Oh, great! A book!" She took it out off the box and blew off some of the heavy coating of dust.

Willow grinned. "Oh, you were expecting lingerie?"

A few of the other Comp Sci kids laughed and Giles winced.

"Oh, uh, I, uh... haven't gone through the new arrivals. Uh, put it in, uh," he looked around vaguely before finally pointing with the large economy text he was holding in", in that pile.

Dave got up from his computer. "Here, I'll get it."

Buffy smiled her thanks at him. "Oh, thanks, Dave. The Willow pile."

Dave grinned as he took the book, moving over besides Willow and placing the book carefully on the pile. Buffy noticed he looked at the redhead from the corners of his eyes, drinking in her profile like a parched man water. *Hello. Looks like lil' sis has herself an admirer.* She winked at Dave, who blushed.

Giles still stood holding the hefty economy tome. Jenny looked at the title, rolling her eyes. Only Rupert Giles would recommend for digitisation _Theory and Design of Macroeconomics in Developing Nations_. No one had ever checked it out, she was sure. No one sane anyway. He dropped her a wink.

"Uh, when I've examined it, you can, uh, uh, skim it."

Jenny gritted her teeth, very gently. She was certain that somehow, Rupert Giles was far more aware of the technological than he let on. He'd known the correct terminology months ago in Flutie's office, he still knew the correct word and he was not letting on. What was his game?" "Scan it, Rupert. That's scan it."

Giles gave her a look that was twenty four carat sarcasm. "Of course."

Jenny smiled at him saccharinely. "Oh, I know, our ways are strange to you, but soon you will join us in the 20th century. With four whole years to spare!" She grinned at him.

Giles gave her a smug little smile in reply. "Ms. Calendar, I'm sure your computer science class is

fascinating, but I happen to believe that one can survive in modern society without being a slave to the, um, idiot box."

Jenny was now definitely getting annoyed. *That's TV. The idiot box is TV. This…" she pointed triumphantly at one of the computers, "is the *good* box!"

Giles gazed at her over his glasses. "I still prefer a good book."

Fritz rose, taking his books with a disdainful expression on his face. "The printed page is obsolete. Information isn't bound up anymore. It's an entity. The only reality is virtual. If you're not jacked in, you're not alive." He stalked out of the library.

Ms. Calendar sighed. "Thank you, Fritz, for making us all sound like crazy people." She turned to Giles. "Fritz, Fritz comes on a little strong, but he does have a point. You know, for the last two years more e-mail was sent than regular mail.

Giles winced. "Oh...what a terrible loss."

Jenny blinked at the true pain in his voice. "More digitized information went across phone lines than

conversation."

Giles sighed. "That is a fact that I regard with genuine horror."

Ms. Calendar gave him a teasing smile. "I'll bet it is." Gathering her students' attention with a look she spoke to them. "Alright, guys, let's wrap it up for today.

Willow gave her favourite teacher a smile. "I've just got a few more. I'll hang for a bit."

Ms. Calendar gave her a grateful look. "Cool! Thanks."

Xander grabbed his bag and pulled it onto his shoulder.

Willow gave him a puppy dog look. "Xander, you wanna stay and help me?"

Xander exchanged a look with Buffy, who had already grabbed her bag as well before replying. "Are you kidding?"

Willow looked taken aback. "Yes, it was a joke I made up."

Xander and Buffy exchanged another look. Buffy leaned forward a little towards Willow. "Wills…beautiful weather…handsome boys…pretty girls in pretty clothes…cheese…Or" she gestured around the library and at the computers, piles of books and scanners. "this. There's life beyond these walls and I intend to explore it."

Willow pouted. "Xander?"

Xander sighed. "Willow, I love you, but bye!"

Willow called after him. "See you tomorrow!"

Xander hurrying after Buffy, ignored her. "Buffy, wait up! We can look at the pretty girls in the pretty clothes together." Willow heard Buffy groan from her seat in the library and had to grin.

* I suppose the weather is nice. But the weather is always almost nice. And, well the boy I want to look at me thinks of me like a sister. Ah poop. At least the books will always love me.* She vaguely heard the start of a conversation between Ms Calendar and Giles.

Giles looked around his dominion, noting the detritus of the stay of a large number of uninterested students in his hallowed halls. "I'm, I'm just going stay and clean up a little. I'll, uh, I'll be back in the middle ages." He started up the stairs.

Jenny couldn't resist. "Did you ever leave?"

Giles ascent halted and Jenny smirked a little at his back at her successful dig. Willow suppressed a giggle. She could swear they were flirting.

Giles turned on his heel and approached her. Jenny backed away slightly at his firm expression. *Oh crap.*

He very carefully mustered her from shoes to hair and then gave her a silent bow. "No Ms. Calendar, I managed to advance to the Victorian era." He eyed her neckline and her graceful ankles. "When your beauty and attire would have turned the head of every man in Britain." He gently took her trembling hand and breathed on her knuckles, then turned it round and… she felt his warm breath on the palm of her hand and wrist. She swallowed, he rose from his bow, his face serious. "So you must forgive me my strange ways. They are positively…Victorian."

Jenny fled the library blushing, clasping her purse and a comp sci textbook. Giles shook himself and suddenly saw Willow who looked at him in utter disbelief, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, breathing a touch fast and shallowly.

"I-I'll be in the medieval section…err, cataloguing and r-reshelving."

He raced speedily up the stairs, ears bright. Willow looked after him. *Well…now there's a lovely bit of gossip.* She grinned at herself. But first there was work to be done.

It was quite dark in the library; the only pool of light was centered around Willow's workplace. The pile beside her had shrunk until only one book remained and she was humming as she carefully scanned it. She drew the hand held scanner over the pages after noting that the script was unfamiliar and the pages made of fine vellum. She smiled. Probably an arcane reference Giles wanted to keep safe. She hummed as she typed in the filename and saved. She looked at the clock. No wonder she was hungry. She put the book on the finished pile and hurriedly grabbed her bag. Seven o clock…mom would have called hours ago…mother…no way.

She did not see the script had disappeared from the last book she had scanned. Nor did she see the typed words appearing on her computer screen.

"Where am I?"

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Willow sat on her bed, not the bed she and Ms. Sum…_mom _had chosen for her new room above the garage, the one they were building just for her and adding French doors to, because this one had them, no the one in the green and purple room in her biological parents' house. She'd never really understood what was lacking in this place and she had come to the horrifying conclusion the last few days she had spent here that what was lacking, had been lacking for years; was love. She did not know if her parents shared love for each other, they seemed comfortable together, sure. But they barely even noticed or acknowledged her existence. She was at best a third wheel on a bike that was never meant to be a tricycle.

Her mother had bought orange juice for her and American cheese. And clothes. Willow had been visiting a few select shops with her _mom_, yeah that was what she was, and had gotten some clothes that made her feel better about her self, more feminine. She blushed furiously when she remembered that _mom_ had taken her and Buffy to Victoria's secret. Both of them had been utterly stunned when the older woman had calmly given instructions to the equally stunned shop assistant on the sort of underwear that might suit her daughters.

And it was darned comfortable. She'd never felt a bra as good as this. And sexy too. Even if no one else got to see it. She tried to picture her mother buying bras with her and came up with images that included pink unicorns. Her mother hadn't even gone with her to buy her training bra…Willow wondered what _mom_ would have done in the same situation. Probably something embarrassing at the time…then again Willow found most things concerning her actual underwear embarrassing. She could make jokes with the best of them, but she had to admit she hadn't been really comfortable with her own body.

And _mom_ had noticed. And had talked to her about what it meant being a teenager, the changes she'd gone through and was still going through. And she'd discussed the variations of feminine hygiene products available, and how they differed and she'd bought some for Willow to experiment with. And it had been normal and natural and not the stilted 'your body is going through certain changes when you hit puberty' conversation she'd had with her _mother_. When she'd been eight. Willow snorted and let herself fall back onto her bed. And now she was wearing underwear that made her feel desirable and the object of her affections was further away than ever. Xander loved her like a sister. He'd said so. And she knew he meant it. Dammit.

She could hear _mom_ say the words. 'Language Willow'. She giggled and ran her hands through her hair. Just once she'd like a guy to pay attention to her, not Buffy. Even if Xander seemed to see Buffy as a sister now too. Which was of the good, since now she didn't feel so bad about seeing Xander look at Buffy. He wasn't even jealous of Angel. He was very protective of Buffy. And of her. And of Dawn.

He'd glared at a twelve year old boy who'd made a remark about his youngest sister until the boy fled in a panic. She giggled again at the memory, and then scowled. He'd better not act like that towards her when a guy showed interest. She deserved some nice guy paying attention to her. _Mom_ had said so. Willow sighed and put on the ridiculous pajamas. The emerald green linen ones _mom_ had bought her were much nicer, but she'd left them at home. She sighed. In a few days she could go and eat with her family. It was not like mother and father would notice she was gone by then. She turned on her computer and logged onto one of her computer chat groups. She'd chat a bit before she went to sleep.

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Danielle Moritz did not know may people she trusted with the really important things that involved Sunnydale. She took a deep breath before she picked up her phone and rang the number.

It was answered on the second ring by a breathy, somewhat ditzy voice. "Phoebe Halliwell."

"Miss Halliwell? My name is Danielle Moritz; I'm looking for Penelope Halliwell."

"Grams! PHONE!" There was a noise as a different extension was picked up. "Penelope Halliwell."

"Mrs. Halliwell? This is Danielle Moritz. I realize it's been very long since we last spoke…But I need your help. I need to get to Sunnydale."

There was a moment of silence. "Seven years or so…quite some time indeed. And from what I heard…I'm a bit surprised you're so…coherent."

"I got better…And I've got some of my magic back."

"I'm not as young as I was Mrs. Moritz, but I suppose I can still manage a Vanquish…"

"Hopefully…there will be no vanquishing…It's a personal matter. But I need an experienced witch of the world at my side. Preferably one with powerful Spirit. Drawing on nature on a Hellmouth…"

"Quite right. Mrs. Moritz…"

"I can do magic…again…but I can't drive."

There was a chuckle at the plaintive way in which she said it. "It may be a week or two. That whole mess with the Grand Magister has thrown everything off. I can't believe he actually did it…"

Danielly snorted. "Well apparently his continued statements that he wanted to lay down the burden were not as hollow as those his father used to spew…We may have made a mistake Penelope…"

"Is that how you see it?" Penelope sounded worried.

"He…never wanted the job. He's pointed out diplomatically and otherwise, that there are many more powerful magic users who are perfectly capable. He even got the successor he wanted lined up, much to her displeasure..."

Penelope was silent for a bit. "You know, I hadn't looked at it like that. Still, it will take a week or two to get messages to all the members for the election."

"True. Clarice has her hands full here as well."

"We miss you in the Councils you know."

"I'm happy enough to be alive right now."

"I can imagine. Might I inquire about the nature of the personal matter?"

"My granddaughter, Sheila's daughter."

There was a choking noise. "Sheila's daughter…is she…as powerful?"

"No. More powerful."

"And she's raising the girl on a _Hellmouth_?" Penelope's voice rose in disbelief near the end of the sentence.

"I think she hoped Willow would go dark and take the vengeance she could not take herself."

"Aha. How encouraging."

"It gets worse…I didn't suffer a stroke. I was defeated by Catherine McGonagall."

"Goddess above…why didn't you tell us before?"

"Because I didn't remember. I'm darn lucky she didn't lobotomize me completely with the number of memory blocks she put in. I think she liked the notion of me being a drooling vegetable most of the time."

"Two weeks is starting to sound quite long…"

"If she's out there still we need to prepare. She was far more accomplished than I expected from a witch her age. But…The spells are unraveling…so I think she either stopped paying attention…or…She's dead…But I can't be sure."

"If she took you down…I'm beginning to understand why you need a Spirit witch. I will call you to finalize the arrangements. It was good talking to you again Danielle."

"You too Penelope. Give my regards to your granddaughters."

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"A VAMPIRE?"

Buffy winced. Telling her mom that Angel was a vampire was not going particularly well.

"He's a good vampire mom, he's got a soul…"

"So did Hitler. And Stalin." She looked at Simon. "Didn't they?"

"Yes, they were human. A soul is not a guarantee for good behaviour."

"You knew." Her voice was accusing and she crossed her arms.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you put a stop to it?"

In answer Simon took out a leather bound photo album from a large wooden crate that had been delivered earlier. He handed it to Joyce who opened it. Her face softened in spite of her anger.

"Awww…you were a very cute baby…" She leafed on until she found picture that apparently stunned her, then another, and another. And then she started to giggle. Simon blushed.

"Changing your diapers? The expression on his face is priceless…And you read _him_ the riot act on Buffy?"

Simon winced. Buffy glared. "Wait, what? You read him the riot act? About me?"

Simon coughed hesitantly. "I may have pointed out to him he'd need to shape up to be good enough for you…Some simple facts regarding relations with teenagers…Things like that…"

"Oh? And what gives you the right to interfere in my love life?"

Joyce cleared her throat. "The fact you're fifteen, he's a semi-responsible adult and I asked him to."

"MOM!"

"Semi-responsible?"

"Buffy…I wasn't happy about this when I thought he was twenty-two…at…" Her face scrunched up in quick calculation, " two hundred and seventy…my enthusiasm is…lets say you have to dig to measure it Buffy."

Buffy sighed. "Yeah I know. We both know…But…"

"You can't help what's in your heart?"

"Something like that…Mom?" She looked at Simon who smiled and left.

Buffy sat down. "Mom…I-I don't know what to do…Every time I see him, or think about him…"

"You feel butterflies in your stomach and all happy?"

"Yeah…and then…I remember that it won't, can't, shouldn't happen…" Buffy sniffled and Joyce took her in her arms.

"Oh Buffy…"

"I feel like an idiot…"

"Well he isn't much better, like a deer falling in love with the hunter."

"More like bear mom…but yeah, we don't seem to be too high up on the Common Sense scale…"

"You can say that again…well we can only see where this goes…And if this does lead to something…"

"He's got to come to dinner, I know."

Joyce grinned. "Sooo….want to go dig through Simon's family albums and look at embarrassing pictures?"

"Sure! Let's get Dawn and Xander in here too!"

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Joyce sat leaning against Simon on the couch, reading. He'd been for a run with Buffy before dinner and was exhausted but determined not to show it. The fact he occasionally nodded off over his book made her smile just a little.

Hurst and Simon's personal defence trainer, a phlegmatic elderly Okinawan man called Mr. Miyagi had been rather harshly humorous about the small paunch her lover had developed in the recent weeks of soft living and too much comfort. They'd set aside a portion of each working day for him to train at his office's gym, while he was briefed on non vital matters through verbal reports. She looked at the clock and poked him in the side with her elbow.

"Simon."

He snorted and woke up. "Yes love?"

"Willow hasn't called…" Her voice was sorrowful and she could feel that she was on the verge of tears.

Simon sighed and drew her into an embrace. "We can't make her come to us love…she has to choose this…With Xander…they were beating him. There was evidence. The only one who can really tell what happened to Willow is Willow…and she probably feels ambivalent about it. She may decide only to live here when her parents are away. If we take it to the courts without her full support…we may just drive her away."

"It's not fair Simon…she deserves so much more." She turned towards him and looked him in the eye.

"You should tell her. Everything."

Simon paled and she felt him shiver and saw him swallow. "Joyce…"

"Everything Simon…I'm sure she'll understand…" She fell silent as she saw his hands were breaking the cover of the hardback he was reading. She feared the nightmares would be fierce this night.

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Willow was humming to herself as she walked down the hallway. Buffy muttered under her breath as she ran to catch up with her.

"Willow! Willow, hey, wait up!" She reined in her speed as she caught up.

Willow started. "Oh, Buffy, I didn't even see you."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Or hear me. Willow…Where have you been the past days? Mom's really worried. What was up the last few nights? I tried your line, like, a million times. And you didn't answer your mobile"

Willow looked dreamy. "Oh, I was, I was talking. Bit busy. May have forgot to charge it."

Buffy looked at her askance. "Yeah…you haven't been by…you haven't called…mom and Simon are really worried. It's been a week. Xander is getting more than a bit moody and Dawn misses her chess partner. And we both miss our sis…And you totally missed a night of watching Simon squirm as we went through every baby picture of him and oohed and aahed for hours… So who's that important to talk to Wills?"

Willow kept silent, except for her breathy humming.

"Okay, that's it, you have a secret, and that's not allowed."

Willow gave the blonde an arch look. "Why not? She opened her locker, starting to rummage.

"'Cause... there's a rule."

Willow grinned. "Well, I sort of met someone."

Buffy squealed excitedly. "I knew it! This is so important! When did you meet?"

"Last week after we did the scanning project in the library." Willow closed her locker after retrieving a book.

Buffy crossed her arms. "Okay Wills, get with the 'splainy. Does he go here? What's his name? Have you kissed him? What's he like?"

Willow almost snorted with amusement. "No, Malcolm, no, and very nice."

Buffy tried to look down her nose at Willow to show her annoyance. The problem with this was that Willow was taller, even if only by a small margin. "You are a thing of evil for not telling me this right

away! And mom is going to be so excited for you!"

Willow smirked. "Well, I wasn't sure there was anything to tell. But last night, oh! We talked all night, it was amazing. He's so smart, Buffy, and, and he's romantic, and we agree about everything!"

Buffy sighed at her soon-to-be-sister's innocence. " What's he look like?"

Willow waved a hand at the irrelevance. "I don't know!"

Willow walked down the hall with a big smile on her face. Buffy stared after her for a moment, confused, then followed quickly. She caught up with Willow outside the computer lab.

The Computer lab was empty except for Fritz and Dave who were typing, a slightly glazed look on their faces.

Dave spoke to his monitor softly. "Yes, I will. I promise."

Buffy followed Willow into the room.

"So, you've been seeing a guy, and you don't know what he looks like? Okay, this is a puzzle. No, wait, I'm good at these. Does it involve a midget and a block of ice?"

Willow smirked. "I met him online."

Buffy blinked. "On line for what?"

Willow laid a hand on one of the computer screens and smiled.

"Oh! Like that…"

Jenny Calendar strode quickly into the room wearing dark glasses and holding a mug of coffee in one hand and her books in the other. "Morning, kids!"

Buffy turned to the young teacher who looked back at her as she walked to her desk. Putting her mug down she addressed the blonde. "Buffy, are you supposed to be somewhere? She took of the sunglasses and gave the teen a searching look.

Buffy shrugged. "No, I have a free."

Ms. Calendar nodded, satisfied. "Cool! But this is lab time, so let's make it a nice, short visit, okay?"

Buffy nodded. "Sure."

The PC Willow used spoke in an artificial voice. "You have mail."

Willow smiled. She quickly accessed the message: I'm thinking of you.

Willow aahed to herself. "He's so sweet!"

Buffy nodded, then smiled nervously. "He's obviously a sweetie."

Willow gave her an uncertain look. "What should I write back?"

Buffy tried to caution the redhead. "Uh, Willow, I think it's really great that you have this cool pen pal, but don't you think you're kinda rushing all into this? Y'know what I mean?"

Willow ignored her, babbling excitedly. "'I'm thinking of you, too!'" She deflated, crestfallen. "No, that's incredibly stupid!"

Buffy sighed. "Will, down girl! Let's focus here, okay? What do you actually know about this guy?"

Willow gave her a disappointed look. "Oh, see, I knew you'd react like this."

Buffy looked honestly confused. "Like what?"

An entity watched the conversation with eagle eyes from the computer's video hook up.

Buffy fiddled awkwardly with a pile of printer paper. "I just wanna make sure you're careful, that's all.

Willow spoke in an exasperated tone. "Buffy..."

Buffy looked earnestly into Willow's eyes. "He could be different than you think. You've never met him."

In one of the school's offices a computer came online by itself and started searching through the student records, halting at the record of one Buffy Anne Summers.

Fritz's glazed gaze was upon his screen and he saw the record appear on it. The blond boy studied it carefully, until a message blanked out the rest of the screen. Watch her.

Willow rolled her eyes. "His name is Malcolm Black, he's eighteen, he lives in Elmwood, which is about eighty miles from here, and he likes me! See, I know lots about him."

Buffy gave her a worried look. "Short, tall, skinny, fat?"

Willow grated out her reply. "Why does everything have to be about looks?"

Buffy huffed. "Not everything, but some stuff is. I mean, what if you guys get really, really intense, and then you find out that he... has... a hairy back?"

Willow blinked at the, to her, utterly irrelevant remark. "Well, no! Uh, he doesn't talk like somebody who would have a hairy back. Not that I know how somebody who has a hairy back. Or how they talk. And anyways, that stuff doesn't matter when you really care about each other. Maybe I'm not his ideal either."

Buffy raised her hands in defence. "Hey, I'm just trying to make sure that he's good enough for you.

I think it's great that you met someone." She leaned forward and sighed, whispering to Willow. "And it's not like I've got a right to talk about weird boyfriends."

Jenny blinked at the computer logs she had been studying, and then rose, walking over to the students whose intensive use worried her. "Hey, Fritz... I'm, uh, lookin' at the logs. You and Dave

are clockin' a pretty scary amount of computer time."

Fritz smiled smugly. "New project."

Jenny smiled, indulgently. Fritz and Dave did quite often manage to surprise her. "Ooo, will I be excited?"

Fritz's smug grin disappeared and his face became a blank mask. "You'll die."

Willow came down the steps next to him. Oblivious to her surroundings she didn't notice Xander coming from her right. Putting his hand over her eyes, he forced her to stop, nearly losing her balance.

Neither noticed Dave glaring at the two of them from one of the benches in the courtyard.

Xander. "Hup, guess who?"

Willow sighed. "Uh, Xander?"

"Yeah, but keep guessing anyway. You might be wrong, considering how long I've barely seen you."

Willow's voice was annoyed now. "Xander…"

Xander removed his hand from her eyes. "Oh, I can't fool ya, you see right through my petty charade. We goin' to the Bronze tonight? After dinner?"

Willow smiled placatingly. "Not me, I think I'm gonna call it an early night."

Xander gave her a searching look. "Oh, Malcolm, right?"

Willow smiled and nodded happily, even humming a little.

"Yeah, I heard. But you're gonna be missin' out. I'm plannin' to be witty. I'm gonna make fun of all the people who won't talk to me."

Willow grinned, leaving quickly. "That's nice, you'll be busy all evening. Have a good time!" Xander looked after her with worry in his eyes and a slightly hurt expression. Buffy joined him.

Buffy looked up at her foster brother. "She certainly looks perky."

"Yeah, color in the cheeks, bounce in the step...Bushy tailed and bright-eyed. I don't like it. It's not healthy." He turned towards her. "So, are you goin' to the Bronze tonight? Oh, probably not, you probably have some vampire slaying or some lame endeavor like that, don't you? Everyone deserts me." He sniffed and theatrically wiped at his eyes.

They began walking their next class.

Buffy grinned up at him. "Check out the jealous man!"

Xander gave her a measured look. "What are you talking about?"

Buffy twirled a tuft of hair between her fingers and then blew it out. "You're jealous."

"Of what?"

"Willow's got a thang, and Xander's left hanging."

Xander's rolled his eyes. "Oh, that's meaningless drivel. I'm not interested in Willow like that."

Buffy gave him a serious look. "Yeah, but you got used to being the Belle of the Ball."

Xander looked uncharacteristically serious. "No, it's just... this Malcolm guy? What's his deal? I mean, tell me you're not slightly wigged."

Buffy conceded his point with a slight nod. "Okay, slightly. I mean, just not knowing what he's really like."

Xander scratched his head. "Or who he really is. I mean, sure he says he's a high school student, but I can say I'm a high school student."

Buffy tried to be the voice of rationality and grinned. "You are."

Xander grinned back but his voice still held a serious undertone.. "Okay, but I can also say that I'm an elderly Dutch woman. Get me? I mean, who's to say I'm not if I'm in the elderly Dutch chat room?"

Buffy grinned again. "I get your point!" Then her face fell as she realized it was not really a joking matter. "I get your point. Oh, this guy could be anybody. He could be weird, or crazy, or

old, or... He could be a circus freak." Buffy was now getting panicky and wide-eyed. "He's probably a circus freak!"

Xander nodded sagely. "Yeah. I mean, we read about it all the time. Y'know, people meet on the 'Net, they talk, they get together, have dinner, a show, horrible ax murder."

Buffy swallowed. "Willow ax murdered by a circus freak... Okay, okay, what do we do? Suddenly she gave Xander an annoyed look. What are we doing? Xander, you get me started! We are totally overreacting! This is way paranoid!"

Xander nodded, grinning. "But its fun, isn't it?" They walked on, chatting, but Xander still, when Buffy did not notice, look worried.

It was hot in the computer lab, the air conditioning was not able to vent all the heat produced by the machines. A single student sat watching a screen with avid intensity.

Fritz muttered to himself in an undertone, carving his arm with an etching tool. "I'm jacked in. I'm jacked in. I'm jacked in."

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Joyce was sitting on the couch after dinner when Xander and Buffy sat down next to her. Simon was playing Dawn at chess, obviously as a distraction. Willow was a much better match for the ten year old.

Miss Mellowes still wasn't better and the fact that Willow wasn't there was throwing Dawn of her game, since Simon was actually winning.

"Mom? We're worried about Willow.

Joyce looked up. "So am I dear, but I can't force her to come eat or sleep here. Unless her parents are restraining her from visiting…"

"No…At least I don't think so…" Buffy looked at Xander.

"No, they don't notice her enough for that. I doubt they've had dinner together or spoken more than three times since they came back. They've got a full schedule whenever they return to Sunny D." Xander said with bitterness in his voice.

Joyce winced then sat back. "And you're not worried about that?" Xander looked uncomfortable.

"No…Willow is strong…and she's got…well she's got me and now she got a real mom and dad and that has made her even stronger…but she…she's met this person in an online chat room…"

Joyce ahed. "I see. And you're afraid this person is not who he seems to be."

The teens exchanged looks. "You know what a chatroom is?" Buffy ventured, somewhat surprised.

Joyce grinned. "Well I do have a computer at the gallery."

Buffy blinked. Xander grinned and winked at Buffy, whose face cleared with realization before she asked her question in a pointed voice. "Mom…what exactly do you chat about with Simon?"

Joyce blushed furiously. Buffy and Xander exchanged a knowing look.

"Nothing of concern to you. I'll ask Simon to look into this friend of Willow's. What do you know about him?"

Buffy took a piece of paper from her pocket and handed it over. Joyce read it and sighed. "I suppose I should be glad _one _of my children's' love interests is only two years older, or pretends to be."

Buffy, flushing, opened her mouth to protest, closed it again, and noted Xander had coloured as well. "Damn. That was good. I see where you got it Buff."

"Yeah. She's good. And underhanded and sneaky."

Joyce sniffed archly. "You have much to learn, my young apprentices."

Xander thought it was funny but not worthy of the howling laughter Buffy and Joyce produced. He'd ask why later.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's note:**

**Well first hints at the first major crossover dropped yesterday… In case you had not noticed, I do not own Charmed or any related properties. In case you had, I hope you enjoyed the short appearance.**

**Now we continue the exciting ( I hope) adventures. I hope the developments in the familial way are still believable. A nasty cliffhanger, I know. You won't have to wait long, if everything goes right the next chapter should be up tomorrow and the sequel will start pretty soon.**

**Do forgive the slow development, this mostly character driven AU after all. Reviews of all developments, private or otherwise, welcomed.**

_Chapter 21: Electric Showers and demonic Hackers_

It was the next day. Buffy was worried and Xander was near frantic. Willow had been absent for the first four periods without notice of illness and Xander was about ready to head to the Rosenberg house and find out what was going on. Buffy had barely talked him down from doing so by calling mom who'd promised to check. She was slowly changing for PE when Willow burst in, almost bumping into two girls at the door.

Buffy was relieved but also a bit annoyed and tried to keep it out of her voice. "Whoa! You're the Late Girl."

Willow looked evasive. "I overslept." She grimaced. "Mom called me."

Buffy nodded knowingly. "Till fifth period? Talkin' to Malcolm last night?"

"Yeah." Willow smiled dreamily. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You're having an expression."

Buffy tried to look innocent. "I'm not. But if I was, it'd be saying, 'This just isn't like you.'"

Willow bristled. "Not like me to have a boyfriend?"

Buffy looked appalled and interested at the same time. "He's boyfriendly?"

Willow was obviously confused. "I don't understand why you don't want me to have this. I mean, boys don't chase me around all the time. I thought you'd be happy for me."

Buffy tried to bury her growing concern. "I just want you to be sure. To meet him face to face. In daylight, in a crowded place with some friends. Y'know, before you become all... obsessive."

Willow gave her a disappointed look. "Malcolm and I really care about each other. Big deal if I blow off a couple classes."

Buffy pounced on the statement. "I thought you said you overslept."

Willow sighed. "Malcolm said you wouldn't understand."

Buffy gave her a cool look. "Malcolm was right. We don't. And after school, I suggest you call mom."

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It was still warm in the computer lab. The windows were open but the light breeze was hot itself and hardly brought relief from the heat given off by the burring computers. Buffy came in, walking cautiously. She spotted Dave and went over to him.

"Dave?" Buffy sighed. * What is it with geeks and computers? He's like Wills!* She grinned remembering how Dave had looked at Willow in the library. * I wonder…Dave equals Malcolm? It might be a way for a shy guy to make an approach…*

"Hey there, Dave. Anybody home?" She lightly laid her hand on the boy's shoulder and he jumped in his seat.

Dave gave her a shy smile while blinking at her. "Oh, what do you want?"

"I wanted to ask you something if you have a minute." 

Dave looked at the clock on his desktop. "What is it?"

"Well, you're a computer geek... genius, and, uh, I sort of have a technical problem. If I wanted to find out something about someone, i-if someone e-mailed me, could I trace the letter?"

Dave looked at her with a little pity for the not-really tech literate. "Well, you could pull up somebody's profile based on their user name."

Buffy nodded. "But they write the profile themselves, right? And so they could say anything they wanted."

Dave seemed a little impressed. "True."

Buffy grinned at him. "Wow! I had knowledge!" Dave smiled at her enthusiasm and Buffy continued. "Well, is there a way to find out exactly where a letter, an e-letter came from? I mean, the actual

location of the computer?"

Dave considered her question. "That's a challenge."

"'Cause, you see, Willow's got this boyfriend, Malcolm, and to tell you the truth, I think..."

Dave interrupted her, his face and tone annoyed. "Leave Willow alone."

"What do you mean?"

Dave's tone became insistent and aggravated. "That's none of your business."

Buffy blinked. *Heh. So he is Malcolm. Well that's not so bad. A bit of coaching…* "Dave, are you Malcolm?"

Dave turned back to his PC. "Of course not." He started typing quickly, barely looking at the keyboard or the screen, his eyes seeming far away as lines of code developed on the screen.

Buffy was more than a little started at the sudden dismissal. "Dave, what's going on?"

"Look, I'll talk to you later, okay? I've got work to do."

Buffy left, letting out a breath as she exited the lab. "So do I."

Fritz, seated behind his own computer watched her go as she passed him, his face empty but his eyes full of suspicion.

The library was cool and full of the scent of old books, as well as the glue and the paper Giles used to treat his wounded babies. Buffy followed Giles down the stairs to the counter.

"I'm telling you, something is going on. It's not just Willow. Dave, Fritz, they're all wicked jumpy."

Giles sighed. "Those boys aren't sparklingly normal as it is."

Buffy had a sudden flashback to the mantis woman and the difficulty he'd had to convince, and the Hyena possession. "Giles, trust me."

Giles nodded encouragingly." I-I do! Y-Your track record for sensing supernatural problems has been excellent. I- Its just… I-I-I really don't know how to advise you. Things involved with a computer fill me with a childlike terror. Now, if it were a nice ogre or some such I'd be more in my element. Well, I-I

suppose you could, um, tail Dave, see if he's up to something."

Buffy looked at him as if he'd suggested she paint herself purple and dance naked in the middle of the campus. "Follow Dave? What, in dark glasses and a trench coat? Please. I can work this out myself."

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After school Buffy waited outside in an ancient ford while Hurst very calmly pretended to tinker with the engine. Buffy was pouting but an innocent question to the bodyguard had resulted in her mission being pre empted. Dave got into his car, started it and drove off.

"Can't I wear a dark coat? Sunglasses? I mean isn't that sort of traditional for tailing people?"

Hurst gave her a pained look. "Miss Buffy…I may not be as good at this as Lewis, but I assure you that dark coats and glasses in California make people think 'weird Goth following me and wanting to mug me'. It's hardly an inconspicuous look."

"Buffy. You throw me stakes, you watch my six; you call me Buffy."

Hurst smiled. "I don't watch your six, Miss Buffy. Mr. Liam does that. Ms. Summers had some very _distinct_ words about us watching her daughters' sixes."

"M- Mr. Liam?"

"Watches you like a hawk miss, always there when you go into combat."

"Oh…Hurst? Do you have a first name?"

"None that you need to know Miss Buffy."

"Can I drive?"

"Miss Buffy…I've seen you drive during lessons…and your mother left very clear instructions on that as well."

Buffy sighed and pouted. This whole servant and bodyguard thing was going to take time to get used to.

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They drove past the fenced in building, with a large sign saying CRD on it at every gate. Hurst instructed Buffy to use the binoculars he had with him and looked the place over himself, not stopping for very long and taking note of the security around the building.

Dave had driven up to the loading dock in back, getting out to talk to a technician before going inside.

Hurst noted that a camera was angled to catch cars driving by on the road but assumed they were far enough away and of too little significance to register with the security personnel

Fritz sat in the school lab and watched as the old Ford with the Summers bitch in it passed by the factory of the glorious lord, her image captured by the camera at the lord's will. She was clearly recognizable in the close up and Fritz almost snarled at her image. "She's too close. What do I do?"

The lord gave his answer on the screen of his computer. Kill her.

Fritz smiled coldly. "Party."

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Buffy swung her legs as she sat on the library study table. "Whatever Dave is into, it's large."

Giles ran a hand through his hair. "What was the name of this place?"

"It said CRD. But, I couldn't get close enough to see what it was. Hurst promised to call it in and do some checking."

Xander piped in. "Calax Research and Development. It's a computer research lab. Third largest employer in Sunnydale till it closed down last year." He smiled a little bitterly as the others looked at him in surprise. "What, I can't have information sometimes?"

Giles cleared his throat. "Well, it-it's just somewhat unprecedented."

Xander shrugged "Well, my uncle used to work there. I-in a floor sweeping capacity."

Buffy ran her sweaty palms over her jeans. "But it closed?"

Xander nodded. "Uh-huh."

Buffy scowled at her swinging feet. "Looked pretty functional from where I stood. I don't have a clue

what they were doing."

Xander sat down next to her. "And what do they need Dave for?"

Buffy looked at Giles and then Xander. "Something about computers, right? I mean, he is off-the-chart

smart."

Giles leaned against the counter. "We still don't know an enormous amount. Whatever is going on

there may be on the up-and-up."

Xander shook his head and spoke decisively. "No, if CRD opened, it would've been on the news. It would be way too important for the local economy."

Buffy nodded in agreement. "Besides, I can just tell something's wrong. My spider sense is tingling."

Giles gave her a look. "Your... spider sense?"

Buffy gave him an apologetic shrug and grin. "Pop culture reference. Sorry."

Giles suppressed a groan at her irreverent attitude to her Gifts. "Yes, well, ahem, I think we're still at a stand still. Uh, uh, short of breaking into the place, I don't see..."

Buffy grinned. "Breaking in!" Buffy slid of the table. "Then this is the plan!"

A dry voice came from the door. "I think not."

All three slewed round. Simon walked to the table.

"Your mother would have _words_ with you if you tried that young lady, certainly if you involved Xander."

Buffy gulped. "I-I ummm… Sorry?"

"I won't tell…this time. As nothing happened yet…"

Buffy let out a relieved breath.

"Whoever this Malcolm Black is, he seems to have a record that is only a record…no one recollects him at his school…and even my best techs can't chase his location down. And for the past two weeks there've been concerted attacks on my company's systems."

Gilles took off his glasses. "Oh dear…have you suffered great losses?"

"Well, he got through the outer defences…which no one has ever succeeded in doing…but the troubling thing is we can't find him…that's never happened as far as I understand."

"I can help with tonight's dilemma…" Simon smiled then leaned against the lending desk. "I owned a lot of stock in Calax, still do actually…I warned them because of their breaches of numerous ethical boundaries. The direction of their research worried me and they assured me they would discontinue their work…when I found out they hadn't, I pulled their funding and loans and the directors skipped with the remaining liquid assets and some of the experimental work…And they went into insolvency and shut down. As the primary owner of the debt, the buildings belong to me…so getting in to them hardly means breaking and entering."

Buffy sighed. "I suppose you're going to do this?"

"You can come along. The new keycards you have will open most buildings, at least the ones not containing national secrets."

Xander and Buffy gaped. "W-What?"

"I doubt I'd get you on the National security register at your age, no matter if you're my children."

Buffy took out the hard plastic card that had replaced the plasticized one she'd gotten earlier." Really?"

"Yes. You might need it some day. I admit that I wouldn't have done it if it wasn't for your…line of work."

Giles looked relieved. "Well at least I won't have to condone that you illegally enter the…

Ms. Calendar entered the library.

Giles continued without a stumble "...data into the file so the book will be listed by title as well as by author."

Jenny gave the group in the room a wary look, and then turned to Giles. "I just came by to check your new data base, make sure your cross reference table isn't glitching. 'Cause I'm guessing you haven't gone anywhere near it."

Giles glared at her. "Uh, I'm still sorting through the chaos you left behind you."

Ms. Calendar returned his glare. "Hmm." She turned her attention towards the pupils. "You're here again? Kids really dig the library, don't cha?"

Buffy tried perky. "We're literary!"

Xander floundered. "To read makes our speaking English good."

Simon snorted. "You must be the inestimable Miss Calendar. Buffy, why don't you take your brother and feed him? I think…lack of nutrition is interfering with his speech. There are some things I need to discuss with Mr. Giles."

Buffy looked embarrassed and grabbed Xander's arm. "Yeah. We'll be going now.

Giles spoke at their backs. "I-I'll be expecting to see some progress on English composition."

Buffy nodded. "Sure Giles. Thanks!" The door closed behind them ands she gave her brother an annoyed look. "Makes our speaking English good?"

Xander hunkered down defensively. "I panicked, okay?"

Simon turned to Giles. "Strange that he can be so eloquent at times and suddenly fall into gibberish. I wonder what causes it." He glanced at Jenny from the corners of his eyes and the young woman blushed a little. "But no matter, I realize you want no payment for the time and effort you spend on my children, but I'd like to make a gesture nevertheless. So a shipment of books will arrive for your use after I've been through the digitized version of the catalogue to see what your needs are."

He winked at Jenny. "And for the time you spend with Willow…I believe a few of your computers in the lab could do with replacement?"

Jenny gaped. Giles blinked. "I thought so. Good day to you both. If you'll forgive me, I've got to get back to work."

It was hot in the computer lab, but Willow had chosen her usual cubicle below the open window and she was quite cool. Her biological parents would not be home until late and she had time enough to chat with her boyfriend. She felt an internal glow as she contemplated that word and concept: Boyfriend.

I've never felt this way about anyone before, Willow.

**I know what you mean. I feel like you know me better than anyone.**

I do.

**Do you think we should... meet?**

I think we should soon.

**I'm nervous.**

I'm not. Isn't that strange?

**That's what Buffy doesn't understand, how comfortable you can**** make me feel.**

Buffy just makes trouble. That's why she got kicked out of her old school.

Willow paused in the easy flow of typing, puzzled at how he knew that. **How did you know that?**

It's on her permanent record.Willow did not answer, still confused and puzzled. You must have mentioned it.

Willow typed again, her touch hesitant as doubt still played on her mind. **I guess.**

Let's not worry about her anymore.

**I have to sign off. I'll talk to you later.**

Don't.

**Bye.**

She turned off the monitor, getting up and leaving quickly, a worried expression on her face.

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The library was still fairly cool, but the atmosphere was heated.

Jenny Calendar was to say it mildly, annoyed and exasperated. She'd never, ever met a man as firmly grounded in the middle ages as Rupert Giles. "You're a snob!"

Giles voice was incredulous. "I am no such thing."

"Oh, you are a *big* snob. You, you think that knowledge should be kept in these carefully guarded repositories where only a handful of white guys can get at it."

"Nonsense! I simply don't adhere to a, a knee-jerk assumption that because something is new, it's better."

Jenny laid a protective hand on the computer, almost caressing it. "This isn't a fad, Rupert! We are creating a new society

here."

Giles replied pithily. "A society in which human interaction is all but obsolete? In which people can be completely manipulated by technology, well, well... Thank you, I'll pass."

"Well, ahem, I think you'll be very happy here with your musty, old books." *Actually this one looks pretty interesting…and old…and hmmm a touch of magic? Oh yes, I've got to pick up that _Ritualis Cretanensis_ and _Hexen im Schwarzwald_.* She picked up the hefty old volume and felt a tingle of power.

"These musty old books have a great deal more to say than in any of your... fabulous web pages."

Jenny leafed through the book and she sensed the magic. For some reason her othersenses were getting stronger again and she was worried. She hid her discomfort and paged through the volume, running her fingers lovingly down the smooth parchment. "Hmm. This one doesn't have a whole lot more to say."

Giles stared at the singularly blank volume.

Jenny looked up at him. "What is it, like a diary?"

"How odd. I haven't looked through all the volumes yet, I didn't, um..." Closing the book he noted the etching of Moloch on the cover. His eyes unfocused a little as his mind skipped through the possibilities.

Jenny almost prodded him in frustration. "So? What is it?"

Giles gave her a puzzled look. "Uh, nothing, um, a, a diary, yes. I imagine that's what it is. * Please let it not be what I think it is.* "Well, it's been so nice talking to you." He hastened into his office carrying the tome.

Ms. Calendar looked after him in bemusment. "We were fighting."

Giles gave her an absentminded look. "Must do it again sometime, yes... Bye, now."

Jenny murmured to herself as Giles disappeared. "Okay…that was just weird." She shook herself and left the library.

Buffy was walking out of the school when Dave came up to her.

"Buffy!"

"Dave! How're you doing?"

"Okay. Uh, look, I'm sorry about yesterday. I haven't been getting much sleep lately, y'know?"

"Don't sweat it. 'S Happened to me too."

Dave gave her an awkward look. "Willow was looking for you."

Buffy grinned internally. *Bingo! Talks to Willow and behaves better…Dave has got it bad.* "Good, I need to talk to her. Do you know where she is?"

"She said she'd be in the, in the girls' locker room." Dave got a slightly hunted expression on his face as he mentioned girls' locker room in the same sentence as Willow and Buffy had to stifle a giggle.

"Great. Thanks." She looked at him for a moment, amused at his uncomfortable expression. *Good grief. Is he actually thinking about Willow in the locker rooms right now?* She left and Dave stared after her, thoughtfully.

The Locker room was deserted and Buffy wended her way through the lockers until she reached their aisle.

"Will?" Walking on a bit further in case Willow was under the shower Buffy called out again. "Willow?"

Fritz turned on the water in the shower, observing that the exposed wires he'd prepared would be in reach soon. Then he left, quickly.

Buffy approached the showers, hearing the water running. *Weird. Wills avoids showering here like the plague.* "Will? You taking a shower?" She saw the empty showers and the running water. "I guess not." She went into the shower to turn of the water, missing the exposed wires and called out to the empty space. "This is how droughts get started. Responsibility guys!"

She turned the water off. The water crept toward the exposed wires. Buffy was startled by a male voice in a place where that should not happen. Dave's voice.

"Buffy! Get out!"

Buffy turned swiftly, noting het wires out of the corner of her eyes and jumped. A scattering arc of electricity followed her as she flew through the air, to land heavily on a changing bench and roll off onto the floor. Dave ran out, leaving Buffy to stare at the empty showers, the flickering lights and the smoke coming of her shoes.

It was hot and dark in the computer lab. The computers hummed softly, ready to respond when the monitors were turned on. Dave came in and did just that. He gestured agitatedly at the video link up.

"I can't do it! I'm not gonna do it."

But you promised.

Dave faced the screen desperately. "Buffy isn't a threat to you! Stop with it." *She's Willow's friend.*

The project is almost complete. You won't have to do it again.

Dave dropped his bag, whimpering. "Oh, I can't! * Willow'd never forgive me.*"

I've shown you a new world, Dave. Knowledge, power... I can give you everything. All I want is your love.

"No. This isn't right. None of it is. And you can't give me what I really want." *You want her yourself. And I can't let you do that to her.*

The scratch pad flipped up on the monitor and letters formed words and sentences as Dave watched, with eyes widening in fear.

I'm sorry. I've been a terrible person.

I'm a coward, and I can't go on living like this.

Forgive me, Mom and Dad. At least now I'll

have some peace. Remember me.

Love, Dave.

Backing away from the computer trembling Dave failed to see the waiting figure of Fritz by the window.

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It was cool in the library and only a few lights were on. Buffy sat at the table and Xander paced

.

Xander growled. "I'm gonna kill Dave!"

Buffy tried to calm her foster brother down. "He tried to warn me."

"Warn you that he set you up?" He turned to Giles. "Is she gonna be okay?"

Giles nodded. "She was only grounded for a moment." He sat down, handing Buffy a mug. "Still, if you'd been anyone but the Slayer..." He ran a hand across his face. "I took the liberty of calling Dr. Meier…"

Buffy winced. "Who'll no doubt tell mom…I'm gonna be grounded for a month." Then she looked at them with a sad expression. "Tell me the truth: how's my hair?"

Xander smiled encouragingly. "It's great! It's your best hair ever!"

Giles agreed quickly, knowing his Slayer's sometimes obsession with her looks. "Uh, oh, yes."

Buffy looked comforted. "I just... I don't understand what would make Dave do a thing

like that."

Giles gave her a worried look. "I think perhaps I do."

Getting up he retrieved the empty book from the bookcage and held it up for them to see.

"Does this look familiar to either of you?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. Looks like a book."

Xander nodded sagely. "I knew that one."

Giles sighed and sat down on the table. "In the dark ages the souls of demons were sometimes trapped in certain volumes. They remained locked within the book, harmless, unless the pages were read aloud. Unless I'm mistaken, this is Moloch, the Corrupter. A very deadly and seductive demon. He draws people to him with promises of love, power, knowledge. Preys on impressionable minds."

Xander pulled at his lip. "Like Dave's."

Giles responded glumly. "Dave, and who knows how many others."

Buffy pointed at the book. "And Moloch is inside that book?"

Giles opened the book displaying the empty pages. "Not anymore."

Xander gawped in disbelief. "You released Moloch?"

Buffy added her two cents. "Way to go!"

Giles countered with irritation in his voice. "I didn't read it! That dreadful Calendar woman found it and, and it was already blank."

Buffy felt the etching on the front. "Okay, so a powerful demon with horns is walking around Sunnydale, and nobody's noticed? That's going a bit far even with the Sunnydale ability to ignore the Wiggy"

Xander pulled his lip again. "I-if he's so big and strong, why bother with Dave? I mean, why

didn't he just attack Buffy himself?"

Giles' shoulders slumped."I don't know. And I don't know who could've read that book. It wasn't even in English. And the alphabet used is a special code."

Buffy rubbed the front of the book again, scowling. "Where was it?"

Giles pointed. "Uh, in a pile with others that were, um, uh, scanned."

They looked over at the PC. Giles and Buffy exchanged a worried glance.

Xander ran a hand through his hair and frowned. "And that released the demon? Wouldn't understanding be necessary for such a release?"

Giles gave him a look. "Interesting point…but apparently not."

Buffy nodded. "And not really released…No, he's not out here. He's in there." She pointed at the PC.

Giles added a clarification. "The scanner read the book. It brought Moloch out as information to be absorbed."

Buffy nodded grimly. "He's gone binary on us."

Xander groaned. "Okay, for those of us in our studio audience, who are me? You guys are seriously saying that Moloch is in this computer?"

Buffy gestured expansively. "And every computer connected to it by a modem."

Giles ran a hand through his hair. "He's everywhere."

Xander groaned again. "What are we gonna do?"

Giles rubbed his chin. "Willow scanned him into her file. It may be... a futile gesture, but I suggest we, um, uh, delete it."

Buffy nodded. "Solid!" She went to the PC and sat down, hand reaching for the monitor.

Xander looked worried. :"Don't get too close, we don't know what he can do."

Buffy nodded. "Okay. Okay." She turned on the monitor. "So which file do you think it is? Willow?"

She typed. "That's probably it, right? I'll just delete the whole thing." Dragging the icon to the trash folder she reared back on shock as Moloch's face appeared on screen.

The demon snarled at her. "Stay away from Willow! It is none of your business!"

Buffy shuddered. "So that's what Malcolm looks like. Well, so much for delete file."

Giles looked worried. "This is very bad."

Xander ran his hand over his face. "Are we overreacting? He's in a computer! But what can he do?"

Buffy looked at him, craning her neck. "You mean besides convince a perfectly nice kid to try and kill

me? I don't know. How about mess up all the medical equipment in the world?"

Giles chimed in. "Randomize traffic signals."

Buffy continued. "Access launch codes for our nuclear missiles."

Giles added thoughtfully. "Destroy the world's economy."

Buffy sniffed. "I think I pretty much capped it with that nuclear missile thing."

Giles leaned against the bookcase and conceded. "Right, yours was best."

Xander rolled his eyes. "What I meant was, does he have access to those things. This guy's a fourteenth century demon right? What does he know about encryption? Anyway what can we do about it?"

Buffy and Giles looked at him in astonishment and he shrugged. "Willow's been talking to me about computers for years…"

Buffy shook herself. "Right I think the first thing we do is find Willow. She's probably talking to him right now. God, that creeps me out!"

Xander looked at Giles. "What does he want with Willow?" He paled. "Something sacrificial?"

Buffy shuddered. "Let's never find out." She got up. "Okay, I'm gonna check the computer lab, and you guys call her home. Try her mobile, but she may have left it behind or not charged it."

It was dark in the computer lab and stiflingly hot. Buffy's nose wrinkled. Something smelled like…urine? Her heart started beating a touch faster.

"Buffy?"

She whirled around. Simon was standing there, medical bag in hand. "Giles said you'd be here…" He looked her over. "I'll want to give you a complete check over after this; partial electrocution is not something to joke about."

Buffy growled. "Oh, and how are we going to explain that to mom?"

Simon gave her a calm look. "With the truth, someone tried to kill you. I'm an M.D. and I think you'd prefer me over the hospital?"

Buffy did not answer and entered the lab, followed by Simon. "Willow?"

The PC's suddenly came on, startling both of them. Simon crinkled his nose and grabbed her arm and hustled her out

"Simon!"

"No Buffy. I don't want you to see what's in there."

Buffy gasped. Simon took her arm. "I'll tell you…but you shouldn't see it."

She nodded and he entered alone, exiting shortly after, phone in hand. "Hurst, I need you inside. Comp Sci lab. Hurry." He turned towards Buffy and handed her a note. "It's a young man, called Dave. Go tell Giles and find Willow."

Buffy nodded and ran. Simon went back into the lab.

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The library was well lit and cool, the skylight windows open. Xander was on the phone trying to reach Willow. She hadn't answered the previous three tries and her mobile was not responding. "No answer."

Giles swore. "Damn it!"

Xander hung up. "Well, it wasn't busy either, so she's not online. The Rosenbergs only have a phone connection and not a dedicated extra line like Mom and Dad."

Giles smiled in spite of the gravity of the situation as Xander referred to his foster parents in that manner.

Buffy ran into the library, Xander turned to her, fear in his eyes. "She's not at her parents. And she doesn't answer her mobile."

Giles took in the slight tremble of her hands. "What did you find?"

Xander worriedly walked up to her, hands reaching out to gently clasp the blonde's upper arms, giving her support. "Willow isn't..."

Buffy shook her head. "Dave. He's…dead. Simon is taking care of it."

Giles swallowed. "How?"

Buffy gave him a sad look, handing over the suicide note. "Well, it looks like suicide."

Xander read it and winced. "With a little help from my friends?"

Buffy nodded. "I'd guess Fritz. Or the other zomboids from CRD. Okay, Xand you and I are gonna go to Willow's house. Giles, you need to come up with a way to get Moloch out of the 'Net."

"I, I have records of the ceremonies, but, but that's for a creature of the flesh. Th-this could be something completely different."

Buffy gestured impatiently. "Then get Ms. Calendar. Maybe she can help you."

Giles gave her an irritated look. "Well, even if she could, how am I going convince her that there's a demon on the Internet?"

Buffy glared. "Okay, fine, then you can stay here and come up with a better plan. C'mon Xand."


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's note:**

**I felt unsatisfied with posting the previous chapter and I'm not too happy about this one: Too much from the episodes and too little original material…but I still feel it's necessary for the development of the story.**

**To make up for the lack, I'm posting chapter 22. This was supposed to be the end of the story, but I'm hesitant: Should I write a story per season? Suggestions, and reviews, are welcome.**

_Chapter 22: Corrupting Robots and Maternal comfor__ting_

Lights were on in the Rosenberg house as Willow walked up to the door, thinking. She opened the front door like she had so often since she got her first key at age five, just after her mother had decided that a girl who could make her own sandwiches didn't need anyone at home when she came home from kindergarten. She called out thoughtlessly.

"Mom? Dad?" *Not home again, Gee whiz, what a surprise. I think I'll have a heart attack and die from such a big surprise. Probably and interesting discussion at the synagogue. And maybe an interesting case or class at the Uni…and a case of child abandonment at home, but that is not nearly so important.*

She walked up to her room, deep in thought, dumping her book bag on the bed, opening it. She saw her mobile was off and winced. Mom was going to have choice words with her…and she hadn't called in.

Her PC spoke in its electronic voice. "You have mail." She looked over and negligently flipped on her monitor to log in. She opened the message. No more waiting. I need you to see me.

Willow frowned. * I've got to talk to someone about this situation. Not Buffy, she'll have hysterics…Mom.* She turned of the monitor and started rooting through her backpack for her charger. *There has to be something wrong with the battery for my phone to run down this quickly.*

The monitor came back on by itself again, again speaking in its electronic drone. "You have mail."

Willow stared at it in disbelief *Okay…so maybe mom _and_ dad? Something weird going on here…"

She heard the doorbell ring and almost gratefully she ran down to answer it, throwing another disbelieving and fearful glance at her computer.

Willow called out as she approached the front door at a run. "Dad, did you forget your keys again?"* Strange I still call him that. Must be conditioning. I can't remember the last time he hugged or touched me.*

She opened the door, surprised to see no one there and thoughtlessly turned her back. Vampires after all, couldn't reach across the threshold. She moaned as a large hand draped a cloth over her nose and mouth and after a brief struggle she fell unconscious.

Fritz, face pale and lifeless in the shadows smirked. "No more waiting."

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The library was cool and dark, except for a pool of light shining from the office were Giles was reading and getting more and more worried by the news that to him told the tale of a demon loose on the world's computer systems.

Giles muttered to himself. "Binding rituals..." The news was not getting any better, he needed to hurry. * I just hope I can convince that bloody Calendar woman…* Just then there was a knock and Jenny Calendar stood there, arms akimbo, in the doorway.

"Hi. I got your message. What's so urgent?"

Giles turned of the radio to gain some time. "Um, thank you for coming. Uh, I need your help." He laughed nervously. *And here comes the bit where she laughs in my face or thinks its all a joke.* "But before that, um, I need you to believe something that, um, you may not want to. Uh, there's, uh...

something's got into the, um... i-i-inside, um..." He took a deep breath and looked her in the eye, letting it out before speaking. "There's a demon in the Internet."

Jenny froze a little. She'd hoped, oh she'd hoped that the way he was acting, the things he had in here, the books…that they all meant he did know about magic, did believe. And even if the cause for them getting together was terrifying… She needed to answer, so she went with the obvious. "I know."

She had to suppress a smile at his incredulous expression.

"You already know? How exactly is that?"

"Come on, there've been portents for days. I mean, power surges, online shutdowns... You should see the bones I've been casting. I *knew* this would happen sooner or later. I mean, it's probably a, a

mischief demon, y'know, like Kelkor, or..."

Giles interrupted "It's Moloch".

Jenny flinched "The Corrupter? Oh, boy. I shoulda remembered, guessed…I just don't..."

Giles gave her a penetrating look. "Uh... You don't seem exactly surprised by... Who are you?"

Jenny rolled her eyes. "I teach computer science at the local high school."

"A profession that hardly lends itself to the casting of bones."

Jenny was getting annoyed again. "Wrong and wrong, snobby. You think the realm of the mystical is limited to ancient texts and relics? That bad old science made the magic go away? Mm. The divine exists in cyberspace same as out here."

Giles looked thoughtful. "Are you a witch?"

Jenny shook her head in negation. "Mm. I don't have that kinda power." *Anymore…* "'Technopagan' is the term."

Giles let out a chuckle. * Techopagan…it suits her.*

Jenny bristled. "There are more of us than you think."

Giles gestured placatingly and smiled. "Well, uh, you can definitely help me." He picked up the book with rituals. "Um...What's in cyberspace at the moment is less than divine."

The led her to the computer in the main area. "I have the binding rituals at hand, but I'm completely out of my idiom."

Jenny nodded. "Well, I can help! I think... I hope, I mean, well, this is my first real... Do you know how he got in?" She sat down as she spoke.

Giles grinned slightly. "He was, uh, 'scanned' is the term, I believe."

Jenny grinned back at their in joke. "And you want him back in the book?"

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Buffy and Xander arrived at the Rosenberg house to find the door open. Bchenka was waiting with a car, the engine running.

Buffy called out, heart pounding. "Willow?"

The house was empty even though the lights were burning it was clear no one had been there in a bit, there were no preparations or remnants of dinner. Xander looked around, being more familiar with the place.

"This isn't good."

Buffy called out again. "Willow?"

Xander led the way to Willow's room.

Buffy's cries were getting near desperate. "Willow?"

The room was empty and Buffy palely sank down on the bed, Xander seating himself at the desk chair. He saw the message and pointed at it.

"Okay, any thoughts?"

Buffy read the message out loud. "'No more waiting, I need you to see me'?" She turned to Xander. "See him how? Where?"

"What about CRD?"

"The research place?"

Xander swung the chair musingly. "I'm guessing that's Moloch central."

"Guessing that's our best lead. Let's just hope Giles can back us up. I'll call Simon to say we're headed there." They left quickly. Buffy called while Bchenka followed Xander's instructions.

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The phone rang in the library. Giles went to pick it up. "Buffy!"

Buffy was standing outside CRD, watching as Xander tried his swipe card on the box again and again. Bchenka was cutting a neat hole in the fence with a set of bolt cutters from the trunk of the BMW. Her mom's boyfriend's bodyguards came well equipped. "Yeah Giles"

Giles' voice was fearful as he asked the next question. "Willow?"

"Not at home. It looks like she was taken somewhere."

"Where are you?"

"CRD. Whatever Moloch wants Willow for, it's probably in there. Simon told me some nasty stuff…biological interfaces and such…very much of the not nice."

"Ms. Calendar and I are, uh, working to get Moloch offline."

Buffy nodded. "Here's a tip: hurry!" She hung up.

Willow woke up on a hard table with a headache. She took a moment to collect herself and then sat up, looking around. She could see a large closed door behind her and a large machine with hollow tube through it, much like a Magnetic resonance scanner, but made of some smooth black metal.

Fritz and a technician stood in a short line, almost at attention, looking at a monitor stood on a pedestal. Words appeared on the screen as an electronic voice started speaking.

"Welcome, my love. I can't tell you how good it is to see you..."

Willow scrabbled back on the table, terrified. Her mouth opened to respond just as a great metal hand crushed the monitor. " ...with my own two eyes."

Willow's breathing quickened and deepened as terror took over. She almost fell of the table in her attempt to get further away from the metal thing that approached her. Its eyes glowed red and the metal horns rose from its temples, adding to its already considerable height. It would stand at least 8 feet tall without them. A single gleaming titanium nail pointed at her, beckoning.

"Willow."

Willow whispered a terrified reply. "Malcolm."

The robot demon gestured and Fritz and the technician went over to her, grabbed the trembling girl by an arm each and held her.

Moloch slowly approached, clearly getting used to his metal body.

"This world is so new, so exciting. I can see all of it. Everything flows through me. I know the secrets of your kings. But nothing compares to having form again. To be able to walk," He put his hand on Fritz's head, "to touch," he snapped the teen's neck with a short, quick move. "To kill."

Willow watched as Fritz's dead body fell in a boneless heap. She'd never liked him, he was too strange and weird and antisocial even for her…but to die like that… She looked back up at Moloch, terror in her eyes.

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Xander followed Buffy through the hole in the fence as Bchenka held the cut wires out of their way.

Xander looked at his sister. "Back way?"

Buffy Nodded. "Back way."

A soft purring engine and a screech of brakes heralded the arrival of another BMW. Hurst and Lewis got out. "Right. Doctor's orders, we get Miss Willow out ASAP." He hefted a large weapon. Seeing Buffy's horrified look he smiled reassuringly. "Trank gun, Lewis and Bchenka will take tasers. We'll take the front, cause a nice diversion."

Xander held up a hand and Hurst shook his head. "Sorry master Alexander, not until you are cleared on them." Xander scowled but nodded.

Xander and Buffy nodded running off. Lewis muttered something and Hurst rolled his eyes in agreement. "Yeah, we'll start tactical training right after this. Ruddy amateurs."

Buffy kicked the doors open. She walked in determinedly. Xander followed her.

Inside the lab deep in the facility Moloch ran a cold nail down Willow's pale cheek and whispered in his electronic voice.

"Here they come to save the day…or so they think..."

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It was dark in the library, but candles were being lit according to an ancient pattern. Jenny was muttering to herself as she did it. Then she turned to Giles.

"The first thing we have to do is form the circle of Kayless. Right?"

Giles looked at the candles and then at her and finally down at himself. "Form a circle? But there's only two of us. That's really more of a line."

Jenny almost laughed at his imagery. "You're not getting it, Rupert. We have to form the circle inside." She sat at the computer. "I'm putting out a flash. I just hope enough of my group responds. Or MoNY."

"Moany…that sounds encouraging. What does he do, run a mystic porn site? And won't Moloch just shut you down?"

Jenny glared at him. "Capital M. small o, capital N, capital Y. He's the go to guy for demonic stuff and magic on the internet. He can answer any question, serious ones at any rate. If he calls it an emergency…everybody will come running to their keyboards. As for the other…well, I'm betting he won't figure out what we're doing until it's too late." She fretted at her lower lip. "MoNY's not been online recently, rumour has it he's been involved in the whole Fall of the Grand Magister thing."

Giles nodded, making a mental note to get back to her about the fall of the Grand Magister after this whole mess was over. "Hoping and betting, that's what we've got."

Jenny gave him a dry look. "You wanna throw in praying? Be my guest." Her face cleared as she saw the message: 'MoNY is now SoS. How may I help you?' She started typing at a ferocious rate.

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Willow shivered as the cold claw caressed her face. "I don't understand. What do you want from me?"

Moloch's yes lit up and he ran his hand further down, the nail skipping over the edge of her purple top. "I want to give you the world."

Willow eyed him suspiciously, then looking down at the tiny rip his nail had made in the wool of her jumper. "Why?"

Moloch's head tilted at her. "You created me. I brought these humans together to build me a body, to be able to move between these worlds… But *you* gave me life. Took me out of the book that held me. I want to repay you."

Willow's voice broke in her anguish and fear as she replied. "By lying to me? By pretending to be a person? Pretending you loved me?"

"I'm a person, and I do love you. I want you to enjoy the world as I do. Together, we can be magnificent…I know."

Buffy and Xander walked up to the guard. The man ineffectually tried to stop them but Buffy, keyed up with worry, did not hesitate in her stride as she punched him solidly on the jaw and walked on.

Xander studied the guard's monitor, hoping to gain some info about how the assault on the front was going. He blinked and called out. "Uh, Buffy!"

Buffy hastily returned. "It's her!" A little of the tension left her body. *At least Will is still alive…*

Xander nodded, his relief as palpable as Buffy's. "Yeah, who's the metal guy?"

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Moloch's hands moved slowly down Willow's arms, fondling her and she shivered. Somehow she did not think it would be an equal partnership if she agreed. "Don't you see? I can give you everything! I can control the world! Both of them! Right now a man in Beijing is transferring money to a Swiss bank account for a contract on his mother's life. Good for him!"

Buffy and Xander came through the doors, following the simple instructions for cleaners Xander had found. Buffy located the right door and found it shut. She tried to force it but had to stop as it resisted her efforts.

"I can't bust it. It's heavy steel." Her frustration was clear in her voice.

Xander nodded. "Then let's find another way in." As he walked towards the next set of doors an alarm went off and red lights flashed. Xander jumped to the door in hopes of opening it, but the heavy double leaved fire door was definitely closed.

Xander grimaced at Buffy. "What's goin' on?"

Buffy spied a security camera. "Building's security system is computerized."

"Whoops! We should've guessed it would be."

Nozzles started to spray gas into the hall. Buffy and Xander exchanged worried glances.

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Jenny was writing a program like she'd never before. MoNY/SoS was no help there. He was rounding up a circle, but she needed the program to properly connect them. "Almost there."

"Couldn't you just stop Moloch by, by entering some computer virus?"

Jenny gave him a look. "You've seen way too many movies. Okay! We're up. You read, I type. Ready?" Suddenly she blinked and then her eyes widened. From all over the world people were calling in, forming a circle of hundreds. The occult power would be enormous. SoS must have called in some favours.

Giles nodded grabbing the book. "Uh, I am." He started to intone. "By the power of the divine, by the essence of the word, I command you..."

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Buffy and Xander pounded the doors and Xander was coughing. Buffy knew her lungs were much stronger but she could feel the burn starting herself. *This is going to end badly.*

Willow looked up at her captor with panicked doe eyes. "Let me leave?"

"But I love you!"

Willow shuddered as his metal hands caressed her body, far too intimately, a single titanium nail leaving a ladder in her black stockings. "Don't say that! That's a joke! You don't love anything!"

"I love you. You are mine! In both worlds! You _are_ _**mine**_."

Willow faced him, still trembling but determined. *I'm not going to fold like a pretty flower. I'm not some stupid girl from a romance novel waiting to be rescued. I'm Willow and I'm a modern young woman of the world!* "I'm not yours! I'm never gonna be yours! Never!"

Moloch lowered his head and considered for a moment. Willow watched him, chest heaving with emotion and waited. The demon raised his head again. "Pity. It's always so much more fun when they agree…But you will be mine. Mine in all ways, in all worlds."

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Giles continued reading. "By the power of the circle of Kayless, I command you..." He blinked at her typing and then at someone's query. Kayless, with a 'K'. And I've never heard of a demon called Kahless the Unforgettable. Who's he?" Jenny just grinned.

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Xander slid down the wall to the floor, almost unconscious. *So much for the heroic career of Xander Harris…* Buffy kept hitting the door, but her blows were weakening and she knew she'd fall by Xander soon. *I'm sorry mom…seems like seven years was too much to hope for.* She vaguely heard the voice from outside yelling 'clear' before there was a loud bang and then the gas started dissipating. Hurst stepped in, some kind of mask in front of his face, and he handed her another while Lewis placed one over Xander's face.

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Willow backed away from the advancing hulk and tried to duck away from him but he grasped her, his hands rough on her arms, lifting them over her head and gathering her wrists into one hand. The other went down to her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"The modern world has many ways with which to break a person, my Willow. I will only use those that leave you pretty…in my eyes. So don't worry, you will always be my favourite" Without effort the creature lifted Willow by her wrists of the ground and the girl cried out in pain.

"I will not be gentle." Her sweater and black long sleeved t-shirt ripped as Moloch's claws cut through them, leaving her lacy green bra bare but undamaged. Willow screamed in frantic fear.

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Giles spoke and Jenny typed. "Demon, come!"

Moloch screeched and let go of her hands and Willow sobbed and crawled away from him, her hands gathering together the frayed edges of her sweater and top, watching as the evil thing in front of her raised its arms to its head and bellowed and screamed. A part of her was appalled, but most of her was very, very happy to see him like this. *I wonder of that makes me a bad person*. Moloch writhed and Willow looked on with satisfaction.

Giles and Jenny continued their duet of the spoken and the typed word. "I command you!"

Buffy crashed through the door with Xander close behind, both tearing of their gasmasks despite the few wisps of gas followed them into the room.

Buffy leapt into a jumping side kick, connecting with a dull thud as she hit Moloch's chest, but the massive robot only staggered a bit, and she fell to the floor as her follow through failed to materialise.

"Ow... Guy's made of metal!"

The technician grabbed Xander from behind and pulled him away. Hurst cleared his throat, removing his mask. "Proper fist, Master Xander, like I showed you." Xander grinned at him.

Buffy quickly got up and looked at Willow while Moloch continued to writhe in pain.

Moloch raged at whatever tormented him. "No! I won't go back!"

Buffy grabbed Willow's hand and they ran out of the lab, the blonde almost pulling the sobbing red head along.

Giles spoke loudly and Jenny decided to use caps. "Demon, COME!"

Moloch's scream followed Buffy and Willow into the corridor. Lewis was standing there; he took one look at Willow and took of his leather coat, draping it across her shoulders with great care. She drew it around herself, shivering, and did up some of the buttons.

Jenny felt the electricity rise up from the computer and the keyboard and reared back, protecting her face with her hands, stumbling into Giles, who clasped her as the small lightning bolts grounded themselves on the metal railings in the library.

Xander pushed the technician back into a wall, turned around, grinned at Hurst and punched the tech out. He followed the girls out, and Hurst covered his retreat with the Taser.

Xander grinned again. "Hey! I got to hit someone!"

Hurst nodded, quite happily. "Indeed sir, and quite well done."

Moloch fell to his knees with a thunderous crash as electrical discharges ran over the equipment in the room

The library was filled with flashes of lightning and a whistling wind blew through the pages of Giles' reference works. The monitor was flashing as more power than it was ever meant to handle flowed through it.

Moloch screamed, both hands on his head, writhing and rocking to and fro as magic sought to bind him.

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Giles and Jenny watched the monitor flicker. Buffy and Willow listened as Moloch's screams died out.

The computer monitor stopped flashing. Smoke rose out of the back of it. Jenny blinked, her hair in disarray, her arms still around Giles's waist. She smiled.

"He's out of the 'Net. He's bound."

Giles gently released her. *God she feels so perfect…But I'm still old and she is still young and modern…and it still cannot be.* He approached the book as if it would bite and leafed through it.

Giles looked up, eyes wide and cheeks smudged with fallen dust. "He's not in the book."

Jenny stumbled over and almost fell into him. "He's not in the book. Well, where is he?"

Moloch slowly raised his head, his red eyes glowing and his hands fisting, cracking the floor.

Buffy and Willow opened a set of doors and saw a guard and two technicians running toward them. They pushed the doors closed. Lewis exchanged looks with Hurst and Bchenka. Hurst nodded and waved. The two other men opened the door and soon the sounds of combat emerged. Hurst scowled and thumped on the door. "Quit playing gentlemen! We have charges here!"

Xander grinned. "We can get out this way and let them have their fun!" He started running in the opposite direction.

Buffy's Slayer senses tingled. "Wait!"

Xander stopped almost dead. The wall behind him buckled and then a huge hole appeared as Moloch thrust his way through, emerging covered in dust and grit between Buffy and Xander. The great horned head turned and he almost negligently backhanded Xander across the face. The boy collapsed unconscious, the force of the blow sending him sliding back against the wall. Moloch turned and advanced on the girls. Hurst dropped to one knee, gun in hand and squeezed of a shot that ricocheted of the armoured eye socket. Moloch took two steps and Hurst rolled as the great fist struck at him, landing dazed against the wall. The demon swung at Buffy and the Slayer held up both hands to block the swing but the great titanium arm kept going, slamming the girl into the wall, where she slid down in daze to land on the floor.

Moloch roared, then spoke angrily. "I was omnipotent. I was everything! Now I'm trapped in this shell!" He leaned forward slightly to grab Buffy by the head, looking into the girl's wide and frightened eyes as he prepared to break her neck.

Willow's voice snarled through the hall. "Malcolm!" The demon turned face her. The petite redhead held a fire extinguisher in both hands and en enraged expression on her face. "Remember me, your girlfriend?" Fueled by rage she rammed the red cylinder into his chest, forcing the massive creature to bend backwards. "Well, I think it's time we break up!" Another strike from the extinguisher hit even harder, denting the breastplate. "Or maybe we can still be friends!" She slammed the cylinder in the direction of his face, but a green tinged metal hand interposed itself, grabbing the cylinder and ripping it from Willow's hands. Moloch threw the now dented extinguisher on the floor hard and grabbed Willow tightly by her arms, launching her in the air to impact with Xander who was just staggering to his feet. The two teens went down in a heap, dazed by the crash.

Buffy recovered from her daze and got up to face Moloch, drawing his attention with her movement.

Moloch rasped a threat from his electronic voicebox. "This body's all I have left. But it's enough to crush you!"

Buffy considered the possibilities in which she might deal with the thing in front of her. * Punching and kicking are out, didn't work before, Will got him with eth extinguisher, but only 'cause he was surprised, I'm faster but he'll still be able to dodge or parry. Weaknesses…he's electrical…Water? Short-circuiting? Overloading?* She looked around taking in the sprinkler system. There was no override for it nearby and she had no means of getting fire near the sensors. A power junction box…High voltage for the adjacent labs. Perfect. She eased her way in front of the box, hoping the newly diminished and enraged Moloch would've missed the lightning bolt sign on it.

Buffy sneered at him. "Take your best shot."

The great metal demon reared back and swung his great fist at her in a blow that would have shattered her skull an splattered her brains across the wall and the floor. She ducked, calculating his speed from his earlier movements in their encounter, he was very strong but his mechanical and hydraulic joints were slow and his movement rate in general as well.

She smiled to herself as the massive strike hit the electrical box and through the door into the powerlines and the thousands of volts of electricity flowed into and around the metal of Moloch's body.

She ran to Willow and Xander and crouched over them to protect them. Willow looked on with a vengeful expression as the electricity wreaked havoc with Moloch's circuits and boiled the hydraulic fluid in his joints, steam and fluids hissing and bubbling out of his body, the red glass of his eyes dimming as the circuitry and lights behind it failed. With an ear shattering explosion the body was rent asunder when the robot's internal power source overloaded. An arm imbedded itself above Hurst's head and the horned head skittered to a halt in front of the three teens. Willow glared at it as the last light faded from the red eyes. Then she started sobbing. Buffy lifted her up as Bchenka opened the door for them, Lewis going to the assistance of Hurst who was staggering upright. They reached the cars and got in quickly.

Willow was still sobbing when they reached 1630 Revello drive. She stiffened in Buffy's arms. "I can't..."

Lewis looked round from his position behind the steering wheel. "Miss Willow…Ms. Summers gave _very_ strict instructions to get you all here as soon as all this was over, no exceptions or excuses."

Willow swallowed. Lewis got out and opened the door, lifting her out of the car and carrying her up the porch. The door opened and Joyce stood silhouetted by the light, taking in the scene. She held out her arms and Lewis set his burden down. Willow stumbled forward into the waiting embrace and sobbed frantically, Joyce's hands making soothing circles on her back and rubbing her hair and head gently.

Buffy and Xander passed them as Joyce gently led Willow to the couch. "Easy little one, easy. I've got you." She let the redhead cry for some time before she lifted the teary face with her finger. "Why don't we go upstairs and get you in a nice warm bath and you can tell me what happened, hmmm?"

Willow nodded and Joyce led her upstairs. Buffy and Xander looked on as they mounted the stairs. Buffy looked around. "So…where's Simon? I thought he was supposed to have my back?"

Lewis stood by the door, looking on as Willow slowly climbed the stairs. "I believe Dr. Meier is tending to Mr. Kirby."

Buffy's brow wrinkled. "Mr. Kirby?"

Xander's face tightened. "So tending to dead Dave is more important than living us?"

"Mr. Kirby is apparently not dead and Dr. Meier is certain he would not receive the necessary care in a normal medical facility." The bright blue eyes flicked from window to door to window as the bodyguard kept assessing the safety of his charges.

Xander and Buffy looked up in astonishment. "N-Not dead…" Buffy swallowed. "That's great! Will he be alright?"

Lewis spoke apologetically. "Dr. Meier did not say." He looked around again. "With your permission I'll go and take up regular station. Good night Miss Buffy, Mr. Alexander." He left.

Joyce took Willow into the main bathroom and set her down on the toilet seat, then turned on the water of the bathtub, sprinkling in a generous measure of Willow's favourite rose scented bath salt.

Joyce very carefully undid the leather jacket Willow wore, taking in the damage to her clothes and the scratches the demon's claws had left on the white skin of her chest. She doubted they would scar.

She pushed the torn clothes of Willow's shoulders and then helped the girl out of her shoes, skirt and stockings. Willow passively allowed it. Joyce took the girl's hands and lifted her up, stripping her of her underwear when she wouldn't do it herself. She led her to the bath and made her settle; taking out the hand shower she wet Willow's hair and then took a dollop of Willow's strawberry shampoo and started washing the near catatonic girl's hair.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

Joyce did not stop her gentle shampooing and massaged the girl's scalp. "Why ever would I not be?"

"B-because I'm bad…I-I didn't call…L-listening to Mal-Moloch. N-Not c-calling. Everything."

"Willow…you're a young girl, a teen with, if you will forgive me, an image of yourself that doesn't match the truth. Lean back." Willow obeyed and Joyce moved her ministrations to the front of Willow's head. Willow started to relax. "You're, despite what you think, a very attractive young lady as well as very intelligent. But you think you aren't physically attractive and in your insecurity you reached out to the first person who showed an interest in you in that way, as Willow the young woman, the person, not just Willow the friend or daughter, classmate or little sister. It's understandable. You no more knew this Malcolm was a demon than Xander knew Miss French was a giant mantis." Willow smiled wanly.

"And Xander really should have known better than to accept anything like what that thing was offering. But back to you…Simon called while he was tending to Dave."

Willow's face crumpled. "He's dead too isn't he? Moloch killed Fritz…"

"No, Dave's alive, Simon said he's some sort of harmless demon and that he'd have died in an ordinary hospital but he went all into details on trachea and oxygen hibernation and I sort of got lost."

Willow 'hmmphed' in disbelief and whispered in a relaxed undertone. "Summa cum laude." Joyce chuckled.

"Simon's been telling on me?"

"It's on your degree, it's not like I've never been to the Gallery, mom." Willow stiffened and Joyce started massaging her neck.

"Turn of the water will you dear?" Willow did as she was told, still stiffly.

"Have you talked to your parents?"

"How can I? They're barely there even when they do stay in Sunnydale. They probably haven't noticed I'm not there now." Willow sounded bitter and sad.

"You'll have to one day dear, there's no avoiding it. You need the closure, if nothing else."

"And where do I go? What do I do?"

Joyce moved to face the girl, forcing her chin and eyes up. "Willow Danielle…do you honestly think what happened means we don't want you anymore?" She sighed as the expression in the teen's eyes showed her exactly that. *Her parents really did a number on parts of her self confidence.*

"Oh Willow…you silly little goose. We love you, all of us do." She grabbed the girl and hugged her firmly, getting shampoo on her face and in her nose and eyes and she snorted and sneezed and Willow started to giggle.

"Sorry mom." She stiffened again.

"Willow, you can call me mom. I've got no problems with it whatsoever. You can call me mom now." Willow looked at her with wide eyes.

"You can do it honey, c'mon."

Willow giggled again. "Yes mom." Joyce smiled at her.

"See, it's easy." Joyce moved the small stool to the side of the bath and picked up the hand shower.

"Now lean forward and we'll rinse." She rinsed the shampoo out of the long red hair and then started work on the conditioner.

"Mmmm…nice."

"Been a while since anyone washed your hair?"

"Yes."

"Want help with the rest too?" Joyce said it quite calmly.

"Mom!" Willow blushed furiously, from head to toe.

"I'm serious Willow…sometimes after an…encounter such as yours it helps. It depends on the person involved."

"Oh…I didn't know."

"No need for you to." Joyce's voice was light but her tone was far too brittle. Willow twisted her head back and met the older woman's eyes. She could read the plea there, to let the matter drop.

Willow nodded very slowly. "Dad…"

"Simon knows. Please?" Joyce was now really pleading.

"Sorry mom."

"It's not your fault dear…but I want you to know…I-I understand."

"Yeah…Mom? I sorta wish you didn't."

"So do I dear. Why don't I let you finish and afterwards you and Buffy and me will make a girls' night of it, hmm? I'm ordering pizza…it's a bit late for cooking…"

Willow giggled. "We need Xander for that. We can paint his toenails."

Joyce rolled her eyes in amusement. "If you can convince him dear." Joyce rose, rinsing her hands under the tap as Willow started on washing herself with the flannel.

"Mom?"

"Yes dear?"

"Do I need to wear a skirt tomorrow?"

Joyce blinked. "A skirt? If you want to, of course. The white and green pleated one would look nice …You can borrow my white silk blouse. And if you wear those green silk stockings…" Joyce gave her newest daughter a calculating look.

"No! I-I-I mean for easier access…"

Joyce opened her mouth and closed it in surprise. Then she laughed. "Oh Willow…I'm not going to spank you."

Willow blinked. "Y-you aren't?"

"Willow…would it've been fair to spank Xander for being possessed by a Hyena?"

"Of course not! That wouldn't be fair, he wasn't in control. But I was. Everybody told me I was being stupid a-about M-Malcolm and I was. I endangered everybody. I should be p-punished."

"Willow…Xander let himself be beaten up by his father after the Hyena thing, is that what you want? I don't think it helped with his guilt."

"But Xander was possessed! I knew what I was d-doing!"

"So you were kidnapped of your own free will and did not fight back at all?"

Willow hung her head. "No, I mean…"

"Willow… Understand me…there will be consequences. But spanking is for deliberately harming, seriously harming, or putting in harm's way a person, like a sibling or other loved one."

Willow looked at her toes. "Buffy said with spanking there were no recriminations…"

Joyce snorted with amusement again. "There are none with the different punishments either. And the consequences won't be punishment. Tonight was punishment enough. The consequences will have to do with you and me and Simon sitting down and working out how many hours of internet access and computer work per day you're allowed. So that you actually get enough sleep. And about some safety protocols while chatting, but all of you will be sitting in on that."

Willow blinked. "Oh." Her face was lit by a brilliant smile. "I love you mom."

Joyce blinked. It was the first time Willow had come right out and said it and it made her heartbeat quicken that the poor neglected girl could have taken to her so quickly.

"I love you too Willow. Now wash and get out of the tub before you prune up." Joyce walked out the door.

"Mom?" Willow's call stopped her.

"Yes Willow?"

"C-can I have some cheddar before dinner?"

Joyce sighed theatrically. "Oh very well…just this once." She turned and gave her newest daughter an amused look. "I've missed you, my little mouse." Joyce firmly closed the door.

Willow giggled at the new endearment and started lathering herself, letting the conditioner be absorbed by her hair.

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Jenny Calendar stared at her shower in frustration. She'd hired the cheap apartment because she needed a place quickly. And she regretted it every day since then, and now the bloody shower was not working again and her day had been long and…Jenny swore. She called her landlord's office but the bastard wasn't there. The emergency maintenance number turned out to be disconnected. She threw the phone down and considered her options. She didn't know many people…She sighed. She picked up the phone and dialed the highs school Library. It was picked up after the fifth ring.

"Sunnydale High Library? Rupert Giles speaking."

"Rupert…this is Jenny…I hate to call you…but do you know anything about plumbing?"

"P-plumbing?"

"My shower isn't working." She knew she was sounding petty and near tears but it had been a long rather frightening day.

"I-I fear I have no knowledge of such things. Perhaps a plumber? Or your landlord..."

"Dammit Rupert! I called them first. I'm tired, filthy, the world was almost destroyed by a demon from one of _your stupid _books and I want a _shower_!"

There was a moment's silence. "U-uh I think Ms Summers house has several bathrooms know… Willow spends most of her time there…"

"RUPERT! I can't go shower at a pupil's house!"

"You could use the locker rooms here at the school…"

"They smell of gym socks. And whatever it is that Harmony Kendall thinks is perfume."

A sigh fit to express a century of Celtic Weltschmerz sounded over the phone. "Oh, very well, I'll come to pick you up and you can use my shower. It's time I went home anyway."

"How gracious of you Rupert. I'll be waiting." She heard his grumbling as he hung up. And she suddenly realized that showering at a fellow male teacher's house might look even worse than at the house of a pupil. And yet she cared not a whit.

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Simon stood in the infirmary of his office building when the Kirby's arrived, worried and tense. The night watchman, a young fellow called Sam Blake, let them in.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kirby? I'm Simon Meier." He shook hands with them. "Now you're probably wondering why Dave is here instead of in the hospital. He was attacked at school and hanged. Of course as a Cheila he did not immediately die but went into oxygen hibernation. I've given him measured doses of oxygen since I got him here and mouth to mouth before that and he has recovered well. There is some damage to his trachea however that should heal quite quickly in a week or two. Obviously there is some bruising, but he is awake, if rather embarrassed, and wants to go home."

Mr. Kirby looked ever paler as the description went on. "Y-you know what we are…" His wife clasped her hands around her husband's.

"Please…there is a slayer in town; we have heard of her…she goes to the same school as David…"

"She knows Cheila are harmless and neutral. She's met Dave, and though she's less than happy with him at the moment…" He gave them an encouraging smile, "As Dave was partially and temporarily under the thrall of a Demon called Moloch, known as the Corruptor. But she understands that his actions were not entirely of his own volition."

Mr. Kirby swallowed. "I'm sorry…she won't attack us?"

"If she does she'll be in grave trouble." Simon nodded reassuringly.

"Thank you…thank you very much."

Simon sighed. "Just one thing…could you talk to Dave about…romance?"

The Kirby's exchanged looks. "Romance?"

"Yes. And that is all I will say." Simon winked at them. "If you'll give me the clothes for Dave, I'll have him ready for you in a few minutes."

The Kirby's nodded in understanding.

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Joyce drove her children to school the next day, the last school day of the week. Looking in the rear view mirror as they glumly sat side by side she cleared her throat.

"Is there a problem?"

Buffy looked down and up again. ""S just…Love."

Joyce nodded understanding. "Of course…you've not been very lucky have you…"

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

Joyce grinned. "Well…I'd love to tell you you'll meet the love of your life in High School…but then I'd have to go look for Brad Peterson…"

"Who's Brad Peterson?" Buffy's forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"Exactly…Just…try and keep it confined to the living, the same age bracket and the same county and I think thinks will start to look up pretty soon…" She winked evilly and all three teens gave her an indignant look before Xander chuckled ruefully.

"She's got a point…"

Willow sighed wistfully. "Yeah…but…love…"

Joyce gave her a gentle look. "I know dear…but looking too hard…that doesn't work either…trust me on this…"

Willow nodded, understanding the reference to the partial revelation her mom had made the evening before.

"It'll be alright dears…one day your prince or princess will come."

"Yah…suppose." Buffy played with the beads hanging from her bag.

"Trust me Buffy…it will."

She pulled up in front of the school and watched worriedly as Willow, dressed in sheer silk white stockings, low green pumps, white silk blouse and green and white plaited skirt, was guided up the steps. The girl seemed alright, but… She giggled as she remembered Xander's painted toenails. Maybe she was. She turned the car away from the curb and drove to the Gallery.

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It was light and airy in the computer lab, the windows were open and a bird was singing outside. Jenny Calendar was typing at her desk computer, swinging softly to the music in her mind. Rupert had a really surprising music taste and he looked surprisingly good when not wearing a jacket. More muscular than she had thought. There had even been a tattoo which she had glimpsed before he hastily covered it up. Apparently England had a darker side. There was a knock at the door and the sound of a throat cleared and she turned to see him standing there, wearing tweed and a waistcoat for heavens sake. She rolled her eyes but smiled as she did so.

"Well, look who's here! Welcome to my world. She lifted an eyebrow and lowered her voice in a challenge. "You scared?"

Giles almost flashed her a smile. "I'm remaining calm, thank you. Uh, I just wanted to, uh, return

this." He held up a small curly earring.

Jenny fought to suppress a blush and a giggle. *Oh this is going to be good…*

"I found it among the new books, and naturally I thought of you."

Jenny was inwardly disappointed. Not in his shower, that would have been even more fun. "Cool. Thanks." She accepted the proffered trinket, throwing it up and down on the palm of her hand.

Giles followed the sparkling thing with his eyes. "Uh, well, I'll, I'll see you anon." He turned to leave.

Jenny threw another challenge after him. "Can't get outta here fast enough, can you?"

Giles turned round, leaning against the desk. "Truthfully, I'm even less anxious to be around

computers than I used to be."

"Well, it was your book that started all the trouble, not a computer."

Giles shrugged, silently admitting the fact.

"Honestly, what is it about them that bothers you so much?"

Giles looked a bit embarrassed. "The smell."

"Computer's don't smell, Rupert."

"I know! Smell is the most powerful trigger to the memory there is. A certain flower or a, a whiff of smoke, the scent of perfume mixed with the smell of damp hair, newly laundered clothes…all those can bring up experiences...long forgotten. Books smell. Musty and, and, and, and rich. The knowledge gained from a computer, is, uh, it... it has no, no texture, no, no context. It's, it's there and then it's gone. If it's to last, then, then the getting of knowledge should be, uh, tangible, it should be, um... smelly. Real. An actual experience of all the senses."

Jenny swallowed. He'd looked at her very intently while talking about perfume and the smell of damp hair…Was she ready for this? "Well! You really are an old-fashioned boy, aren't you?"

Giles smiled shyly. "Well, I-I don't dangle a corkscrew from my ear."

Jenny inwardly crowed with delight. What a marvellous straight line. Her voice brimmed with humour and her grin was like Loki's. "That's not where I dangle it."

She walked past him to the teacher's lounge and smiled. Giles followed her with his gaze and looked puzzled yet intrigued. He lightly sniffed the air in the wake of her passing and followed her out.

On the chair in the cubicle used by Willow a single white rose lay. On the screen a line of words blinked. **"Help? Please? I'll be good…"**

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Willow hummed as she sniffed at the flower in her hand. White rose, a sign of friendship. She knew Xander hadn't done it; he didn't have the time in the morning. That meant someone else had left her, Willow, a rose. Even if it was a white one. Buffy looked at her from below her lashes and crossed her arms.

"Okay Will, who's giving you flowers?"

"I don't know, it was on my seat in Comp Sci. It smells gorgeous." She held it out for Buffy to smell the delicate perfume. "It might be someone who needs my help in Comp Sci, there was a message on the screen." She grinned. "No one's ever given me flowers for homework help before…"

Buffy winced. "Will…If I've got to buy you flowers for all your help. I'll be broke and the Dutch will be all out of tulips."

Willow giggled. "Don't worry sis…special rates for siblings."

"Siblings eh?" Buffy perked up.

"I'm going to talk to my biological parents tonight. After dinner. If I try and have it there, I won't eat."

"You don't sound very…upset."

"To be upset there'd have to be some sort of emotion…they've been so distant for so long…they provided for me in a material sense Buff…but I've had more hugs in the past few months than in the past seven years."

Buffy looked a question. "That's when my Nana died, my mother's mom." Willow looked sad as she spoke.

"Oh." Buffy was silent, thinking of her own grandparents. Her father's parents were kind gentle people, as far as she knew, but they'd moved to Florida years ago. Her mother's parents…she grinned as she imagined how Gran Ellis would react to her new grand children.

"Well I'm glad to give you lots." She threw an arm around Willow and the two walked off to find Xander.


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's note:**

**Well I hope people still enjoy the story. From here on we're veering deep into AU and Crossovers of many nations.**

**A lot of Simon's background is going to be revealed in the next few chapters. And I sincerely hope it doesn't make him a Gary Stu.**

**I hope the scenes between Willow and Joyce in the previous chapter weren't read as erotic; that was absolutely **_**not **_**the intent. (If I write Willow/Joyce I'd come right out and do it, not make her all motherly first.)**

**And before anyone even goes there: the reason why Simon and Joyce get so touchy feely with Willow will be revealed in a future chapter…they are not looking for a threesome with their foster daughter!**

_Chapter 23: Grandmothers, Sons and Mothers_

Willow walked down the stairs to the kitchen, having moved some clothes to her new bedroom. Not completely finished yet, but almost and she'd walked over the on the unglazed arch and heard the birds and the leaves. Pat Madison's men were going to start glazing the next day. And all the windows could be opened so if the weather was fine she'd always be able to hear them. She twirled her skirt and hummed.

"Heya mom! What's for dinner?"

Joyce gave her a look. "Chicken Casserole with broccoli and cheese."

Willow licked her lips. "Ooohhh…" She reached for a bit of cheese and Joyce tapped her hand.

"Willow!"

"Sorry mom." Willow pouted and looked unrepentant.

"You seem…happy?"

Willow nodded and moved behind Joyce, hugging her. "Tonight I get a new life. And someone left me a white rose."

Joyce chuckled. "Well I suppose that would make a girl happy. Willow…Are you absolutely certain?"

"Yes. They haven't missed me yet. I see no reason why they should start anytime soon."

"Very well…there are some things you and Simon will have to talk about…things he'll have to explain…"

"Sure. I'll even read the papers before I sign them…"

Joyce snorted. "I think Xander learned a valuable lesson."

"Yup. He didn't even sign the 'eternal servitude' contract Buffy and me drew up…" Willow pouted again.

"So no slave Xander to peel you grapes and do your chores?"

"No…And I was looking forward to peeled grapes…"

"And now you have to do your own chores…"

"I finished mine already!"

Joyce looked over her shoulder and grinned down. "Well you can give me a hand then. Casserole now, otherwise Xander will go hungry and gripe."

Willow rolled her eyes, but with good humour. "And Xander griping is a terrible thing…"

"Yes it is. And there may be…Gouda…" Joyce used an enticement she was almost certain would work. Willow made a little noise of happiness and nodded.

"Sure mom!"

Joyce washed her hands and started filling the large casserole dishes with chicken, potatoes and broccoli. Willow washed her hands as well and started cutting some onions.

"So why isn't Xander helping if he's so hungry?"

"He's fixing Dawnie's bike."

"Buffy and Dawnie?"

"Buffy's over at Amy's, Dawn is watching Xander fix her bike." She smiled indulgently. "She always wanted a big brother."

Willow smiled and looked at the huge casserole dishes. "That's a lot of casserole."

"Amy is coming over for dinner. She's been helping Buffy with math." Willow flushed a little guiltily. Joyce reached out and lifted her chin with the clean back of her hand. "Hey…you were at least partially enthralled. And Amy needs the friendship and the food that is not brownies. I'd have Pat over too, except he's got an emergency job over at the school something to do with the wiring…So we're saving him some that he can microwave later when he comes to check on the foundation."

The doorbell rang and Joyce looked up. Willow grinned. "I'll get it." She washed her hands again, getting rid of the worst onion smell and ran to the door. She opened it with a look outside, it was still light. There was an older lady standing there, dark hair lined with grey with a distinctive face, a long smooth oval and a strong nose and piercing grey blue eyes.

"Ummm? Can I help you?"

The woman blinked. "No my dear…I'm Mrs. Halliwell. You'd be Willow Rosenberg?"

Willow nodded, taking a careful step back and the lady stepped in, nodding approvingly. "No invitation, well done."

Willow looked at her again. *She knows about vamps…and its still light out…* "So how may I help you?"

"I'm here with a friend of mine…She's outside and…well you used to know her and she's quite anxious…"

Willow rolled her eyes. Her mom was in the kitchen, Dad was reading in the dining room and Xander was in the back. Buffy was on her way home. She took a few steps forward and looked around the door.

Buffy saw Willow come out the door and look at the lady standing there, who was leaning on a cane. Then she saw Willow collapse. It was at that point she and Amy started running.

She arrived at the porch before Amy and just as the old lady had carefully knelt down, obviously as quickly as she could. She gently tapped the girl's pale cheeks.

"Willow, Willow my dear, please wake up." Buffy could hear the quaver in the lady's voice, which was oddly familiar. She shouted.

"MOM! SIMON! WILLOW'S FAINTED!"

Simon was at the door first, having heard Mrs. Halliwell's loud gasp of shock as well as the sound of Willow falling.

He felt Willow's pulse and forehead, ignoring the two older women, picked up the redhead and carried her to the couch. Joyce stood looking with a worried expression on her face. The two strange women looked at him with a bemused expression.

Joyce took one look at them and went into the kitchen and came back with the pot of tea and the bottle of emergency brandy.

"Sit, both of you." The lady with the cane looked very pale and the other one vaguely blue. Simon walked up to both of them, showing more attention to Mrs. Halliwell.

"What do they have you on for your heart?"

She blinked up at him. "Magister?"

Simon rolled his eyes. "Heart medicine. What do you use?"

She fumbled in her purse and come up with a pill bottle. He took it and pursed his lips, then shrugged. "Well one won't do harm now." He shook it out and handed it to her, walking to the kitchen and returning with a glass of water. "I called Xander and Dawn."

There was a clatter and Xander and Dawn ran in from the garden through the kitchen door. Xander took one look at the white haired lady with the red streaks in her hair and collapsed against the door. "Nana Morry?"

"Xander?" The old lady rose, with some difficulty. "My…haven't you grown." She looked at him with pride and he looked back in utter astonishment.

"Y-you're dead! They told us you were dead!"

Danielle Moritz's face twisted. "T-they what…" She shook herself. "I should have realized… Willow would have contacted me somehow if she had known I'd had a stroke…and lived."

Xander took a deep breath. "Why are you here now?"

"A man called Matthew Duncan came by to talk to me about you and Willow. He's started an investigation. And I wanted to know who the people were who were going to foster my granddaughter."

"You don't want to…" He gestured vaguely at himself and Willow.

"Xander…I'm an old lady and not well. And this place is dangerous. You need younger parents than me." She gave him a look. "But I wouldn't mind a hug…" Xander stumbled over to her and wrapped her in his arms, carefully, fearing that this frail old lady would fall apart. *She's so much older than when I last saw her, thinner…frailer.* He decided to go with a flippant answer. Chances were Nana didn't know about vampires.

"Packs of wild animals, gangs on PCP, yeah."

Mrs. Moritz lifted an eyebrow. "I was thinking vampires and demons, but I suppose all that is possible too."

She looked at Joyce. "You've got a bit of a bite." She gestured at the younger woman's neck her hand wave taking in Simon as well. Joyce nodded absentmindedly and sat by Willow, smoothing the girl's hair.

"Her name was Darla. I don't think she'd had a happy life."

Danielle and Penelope exchanged a look at the incongruous remark. It seemed the younger woman actually pitied the vampire that bit her? Penelope sighed deeply, putting her hand to her chest and Simon hurried to her side. "Dawn, get my bag please." He took the woman's wrist and felt her pulse.

"Mrs. Halliwell, I think you're going to be alright…but once you get back home, and I'll have you taken there by the way, you're getting a new cardiologist. I've got a few recommendations. And I think a surgical procedure will be in your near future."

She glared at him. "W-what?"

"I _am_ a doctor. It's something you all seem to forget sometime. Even you Nanny." He smiled at Mrs. Moritz.

She scowled at him. "I told you to call me Danielle when you turned eighteen."

"Nanny…that didn't work then…and it sure isn't going to work now."

Joyce looked at Mrs. Moritz with amusement; Willow's head still cradled in her lap. "I've seen…a few baby pictures of Simon; I don't suppose you have any more?"

Simon poured her a cup of tea and handed it to her, gently resting a hand on Willow's head. He whispered something in Joyce's ear and she gave him a wicked grin at which he winced. The girl with stirred.

"Mom?" Penelope and Danielle exchanged looks again.

"Yes dear?"

"I had a really strange dream…that my nana was still alive…"

"That wasn't a dream dear, you fainted. She's sitting right over there."

Willow stiffened. "Nana?"

"Yes Willow, I'm here."

Willow turned to face the voice. Xander sat next to an old lady with red hair with white streaks. Or possibly white with red. Her face was uneven, no doubt due to the stroke, but the sparkling green eyes were her grandmother's. "They told me you were dead…"

"And they told me never to call or come see you again. Not that I could do much, the stroke rather effectively limited my communication"

"Why didn't you come by earlier?"

"The last time I met someone here. Someone dangerous, who injured me and it, took me a very long time to get better."

"Who did you meet?"

"A very powerful witch. Catherine Madison."

Amy had been standing on the outskirts of the group since the conversation began; she was after all, not a part of the family. She remembered Mrs. Moritz from a play party she'd been to. She'd been a nice lady who'd been very nice to her unlike her own mother. She ran out of the door.

Joyce grimaced. "Buffy, would you mind getting Amy back? Its getting late and I don't want her out there on her own…"

Buffy ran. Joyce looked at the puzzled women and sighed. "Amy Madison."

"Going to warn her mother?" Penelope asked sharply. Danielle had gone pale and Penelope wanted to be prepared.

"Her mother is dead. She moved her personality into Amy. She threw a spell at Buffy and it backfired. Amy's my friend." Willow spoke chillingly from the couch. "And would you like to explain how you know about magic?"

Danielle shivered, her face gone very white. "Because I'm a witch dear, I would've taught you had…certain things not interfered. And possession…that explains that mystery. She'd have to be a Wechselmeister." Penelope nodded, pale herself.

Joyce stroked Willow's forehead, the girl had not moved toward her grandmother yet. "Master of exchange…or changes." She thoughtfully translated the German.

Danielle looked over her shoulder, trying to see if the girls were returning. "Yes. A very dark Art. I fear that Catherine Madison was not Catherine Madison. Her mother, Marilyn probably wasn't herself either… I wonder."

"Pulchritudia Black." Simon spoke the name without inflection and everybody looked at him. "I went through the attic, helping Pat and Amy sort out the dangerous stuff. There was… plenty of evidence."

Penelope swallowed heavily…"Our Lady of Darkness…Goddess above…"

Danielle shivered. "I-Is she…dead?"

Simon smiled coldly. "No. Imprisoned. Exactly what she'd planned for Buffy."

"You know where she is." Willow looked at him questioningly.

"Yes." He admitted the fact calmly. "I judged the location sufficiently secure and decided to let it stand as punishment. It would've been more trouble than it was worth to get her out and stand trial."

"Judge, jury and executioner?" Penelope asked pointedly.

"Part of the job description. Not anymore." He lifted Willow's feet and sat down, placing them on his thighs, taking of her shoes and massaging her toes. "Relax 'tit Saule." Willow melted into the couch as Joyce ran her fingers through her hair and over her head and Simon massaged her feet.

Xander grinned at Dawn. "You feelin' jealous here too, Dawnie?"

"Yeah, a bit. So…next time Gran comes by, and I faint, do I get VIP treatment too?"

Joyce gave them both a mock stern glare. "Behave you two. Dawn…would you go make some coffee?"

Xander perked up. "Yeah and finish the casserole while you're at it, why don't you Dawnie?"

"Xander!" Dawn whined.

Joyce chuckled. "And for that you get to make chocolate young man. I'd say one for each of you kids."

"Sure mom." Xander rose and led Dawn to the kitchen. "C'mon Dawn. I'm sure there are still cookies to be had in Simon's secret stash."

Joyce lifted an elegant eyebrow. "Secret stash? Have you been holding out on me Simon?"

"No, he means the ones in the tin on the top shelf of the cabinet over the stove. As in your secret stash of jam filled vanilla coated British bakery specials."

Joyce yelped. "Xander! Don't you dare!" There was a wicked chuckle from the kitchen echoed by another one, slightly higher in pitch.

Willow giggled. "It's not like you don't have ways of getting more mom."

"That's not the point. Those are mine!" Willow giggled again at her mother's good natured grumbling.

Danielle smiled. "Well at least I no longer have to worry about the suitability of your foster parents."

Simon snorted. "Glad to hear it."

Penelope grinned. "I always wondered what the connection between you two was. You know, there were lots of rumours that you were lovers? And that Danielle had been with your father as well…"

Willow grimaced and made gagging noises. Danielle went very red and glared at Penelope who calmly and maliciously sipped her tea..

Simon had a pained look on his face. "You do realize that you just suggested I had sex with the closest thing I have to a mother? After my father did it first?"

Willow's eyes flew open. "What?"

"Your grandmother was my nanny, from three years old to age eleven, with some additional duties, tutoring and such, until I turned sixteen."

"Oh…ummm. " Her face scrunched up in calculation, mostly trying to remember her grandmother's birthday. "You would have been ummm…"

"Just turned seventeen dear." Danielle replied calmly, face still a bit red. She kept glaring at her sister witch who merely smiled saccharinely.

Willow looked at her grand mother with calculation in her eyes. "Okay, no offence…but why? I mean why a seventeen year old nanny if the master of the house did not think you had a hot bod?" Willow blushed furiously at her own words and Joyce gave her an amused look.

"You've got an interesting way of talking to your grandmother…I can't wait for you to meet _my_ mom."

"She taught you to make pasta. I'll be polite." Willow smiled impishly despite her blush.

Danielle chuckled. "I see that food is still one way to get to your heart. I must admit I don't know. I received a letter out of the blue, asking me to become Simon's Nanny. It was an excellent offer; it included a scholarship for a university of my choice that would accept me, a generous stipend and in his teenage years, the ability and opportunity to travel with Simon. Compared to my home life…it was just too good an offer to refuse."

Simon gave her a look. "You mean you still haven't guessed? Tsssk. And here I thought Willow's intelligence came from _your_ side of the family."

Willow blinked at him, as did Danielle. Simon spoke didactically. "Let's think about this logically. Now, why do most magic users get trained by family members?"

Penelope rolled her eyes. "Because the family affiliation, the affinity for the same type of magic makes learning about it easier, understanding what the pupil is going through, there is an ease about it that is lacking with a tutor not of the same family."

"And I'm certain that Nanny is well aware of the skeleton in her family cupboard…"

Joyce sighed. "What Simon's is trying to say is that sometime in the nineteenth century an heir to the House of Meier had a mistress who was a young Jewish girl…"

Willow and Danielle gawped.

Penelope guffawed. "Danielle…the look on your face…And you're a Meier! No wonder."

Willow sat up, looking between her grandmother and Simon. "So…you're my cousin?"

"Several times removed, but you, your mother and grandmother are my closest living relatives. My mother was an only child. There are no Meier descendants except us four."

"Why didn't you tell me? Us?" Willow was indignant, her disappointment clearly visible in her eyes.

Simon exchanged a look with Danielle whose face was a pale white mask. "There are reasons…but none of them pertain to you becoming our daughter anymore."

Joyce ruffled Willow's hair. "See? Just another reason for us to want you. One of the things we were going to discuss tonight as a matter of fact. And the main reason Simon was in Sunnydale that first time was to check on you. After he got the Pinkerton report he must have been frantic."

Simon's mouth opened and closed, he finally managed to form a question. "Patricia?"

"And Honor, Gerry and Cynthia." She shrugged. "I asked them why you acted guilty around Willow, and they told me what they knew."

Willow smoothly moved to herself to sit on her knees, looking at Simon's face. "You felt guilty? Why?"

Danielle gave Simon a sharp look and he shook his head. She snorted. "Simon feels guilty if the sun rises in the east and when it sets in the west. But at a guess, he got ready to offload his responsibilities in preparation for his long goodbye and he set about it methodically and got a report about what relatives he had left that he might leave his fortune to. And then he found out the way you've been treated, and then the guilt kicked in for not having taken notice earlier: he just assumed that a developmental psychologist and a noted rabbi would take better care of their child, no matter what their schedule."

Joyce nodded looking down. "From what I could gather from his notes, that's… about it, yes. Patricia tells me he had her book the flight three hours after reading the report."

Simon sighed, looking between the women. "Do I have any secrets here?"

Joyce gave him a measured look. "Simon…I've held you when you had nightmares. Including some about our kids…" Danielle saw Willow perk up at the mention of _our kids_. "And if you want to keep your notes secret…you shouldn't leave them in the reports you hand to me."

Xander, standing in the foyer, waiting for the coffee, tea and milk to get ready for serving, noted that Simon shared a grateful look with Joyce and Danielle and wondered what it meant. *Mom and Mrs. Moritz know something…about Simon and Willow…and…it wasn't this…and he's ashamed of it…And afraid.*

He groaned. "All the women in my life pick on me."

Willow looked between them. Her voice squeaked. "You've got reports on _me_?"

"Yes dear. We wanted to be able to get your case through the courts as quickly as possible. Simon's earliest one just showed how often Sheila and Ira are absent. The later ones are more detailed."

Willow blinked. "Oh." She blushed. "Not too detailed…" Her voice faded off into an embarrassed mumble.

Danielle started to grin as did Penelope and Joyce. Willow blushed more fiercely. Joyce chuckled and leaned forward to whisper in her daughter's ear. "Don't worry dear, most of them are about your parents there's nothing in there about…things."

Willow gulped and shot her mom an anxious look. Joyce just smiled gently and hugged her. The door flew open and Buffy came in, dragging Amy by her arm. The taller girl had obviously been crying and was still sniffling a bit.

Joyce gave Willow a last shoulder hug and rose. Willow stood as well, looked at her grandmother, sat next to her and scooted into a hug. "I missed you Nana."

Amy started crying again. Joyce took her in her arms and soothed her hands over the girl's back. "Simon, can you go see about dinner? And make some more, there will be two extra guests." Simon nodded and went into the kitchen.

Amy took a heaving breath and Joyce led her to the couch. "Amy…you're a victim as much as Mrs. Moritz. She terrorized you for years and stole your body. It was only sheer bloody-mindedness that defeated her."

"B-but…Everything c-could've been different…"

Danielle leaned forward. "She possessed you didn't she? You poor thing. What did she make your body do? And what did she do to you?"

"I-I had to do the homework, the housework and she was going to become cheerleader queen."

Danielle and Penelope exchanged dumbfounded looks and spoke in astonished unison. "What?"

"S-she should have done something different?" Amy looked from one witch to the other.

Danielle and Penelope exchanged another look. It was Penelope who spoke.

"Well…normally she worked for world domination…She was…is…whatever…very much feared and hated…she tried to control the magical world, at first in Britain, in the sixteenth century. She was immensely powerful."

Amy swallowed heavily her eyes wide in fear. Buffy looked like a startled deer, panting and wide eyed as well and Joyce gestured to her, Buffy gingerly sat down and Joyce grabbed her into the hug as well.

Danielle thoughtfully sipped her tea. "Penelope…what would happen if a Wechselmeister moved into a chosen body over a greater distance? Would the mind of the original owner of the body be strong enough to influence the occupying soul? Before it was forced out?"

Penelope tapped her lips. She nodded in thanks as Dawn handed her a cup and saucer and took a sip. "Young lady…your mother was a remarkable woman. To be able to drive Pulchritudia Black to cheerleading…" She smiled sadly. "It's a pity you never knew her."

Amy looked between the women with wide eyes. "You mean it wasn't my mom? It wasn't mom who…"

"That depends on how you see it…by the time you were born… Pulchritudia Black was a Wechselmeister, a bodythief if you will, who moved her mind from body to body to extend her life. Catherine McGonagall influenced her before she died herself…but I'm afraid that Pulchritudia was your mother in body and soul…even if she stole the body you were born from."

Joyce ran gentle soothing hands down Amy's arms and back.

"She was born in England, as far as we know in the sixteenth century." Danielle had an arm around Willow and made room for Xander under her other arm as he poured her a fresh cup of tea and handed Willow a hot chocolate milk. Dawn passed around bearing a tray and Simon took the teapot from Xander serving Penelope and Joyce fresh cups before returning to the kitchen.

Danielle glanced at Dawn. "Uhmmm should we be discussing this in front of…"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Oh Puh-lease…I've known and believed for longer than mom!"

Buffy scowled. "Yeah…'cause you read my diary. Lil' sneak!"

Penelope grinned. "You two are amazingly like my granddaughters. It's almost like being at home."

Willow grinned as her sisters started to squabble. Then she looked at her grandmother. "So…you're ok with me…" She waved a hand around the living room.

Danielle smiled. "WiIllow…I've seen you get more hugs in a few hours than I'd seen Sheila and Ira give you in years. And Simon is sort of my son. So I'm very pleased." She hugged Xander closer too. She was about to say something when she saw Joyce mouth something. 'Don't ask about Jesse.' The younger woman scratched at her bite scar.

Danielle sighed. Now she knew what had happened to Jesse. She'd get details later. Right now she wanted to talk to her granddaughter. She looked around the room. Buffy had cornered Dawn and was administering a slow, methodical tickle. Dawn was begging for mercy and laughing. Joyce was soothing Amy, who was still obviously upset. Simon came in and they talked quietly while the casserole baked.

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It was late, after dinner and Danielle sat outside with her granddaughter on the back porch swing. Amy was talking with Penelope under the tree house. Dawn had been allowed to invite Janice because it was unfair that Buffy and Willow had Amy and she was alone. The three older girls had made up beds in Willow's room to inaugurate it properly with a real sleepover. Joyce had exchanged amused looks with Penelope about that. Danielle had smiled sadly. Sheila had never had Willow have sleepovers.

"So, how are you going to tell Sheila and Ira? "

"I was going to talk to them…but after tonight…I'm not. Most of the time they communicate with me through letters or mails. If it's bills and stuff through their lawyers. So I'll send a letter to their lawyers' office and never see them again."

Danielle blinked at the sheer vindictiveness in her granddaughter's voice. "Willow…"

"NO! Nothing you say can make what they did alright. They lied to me, they are _never_ there, they don't know my birthday, what foods I like, what classes I take, who my friends are, they didn't notice I spent most of the past two weeks being wooed by a demon online and they didn't even notice I've been gone for two days. They don't deserve the courtesy of a conversation. I'm also sending a letter to Social Services and one to the California state police. And if they make a fuss, I'm sure that all their colleagues would love to know!"

Danielle sighed. "Willow…they may not have been much of parents…but be better than they are…Please?"

Willow crossed her arms and gave her grandmother a cross look. "Do I have to?"

"Have to…no…but…I know you a little, or knew you…and if you do it the way you just described…you'll never forgive yourself."

Willow sighed and leaned into her grandmother. "I suppose you're right…"

"I just wish things were different…had been different…"

"Nana…I don't know what's wrong with mom, but I'm sure it's not your fault."

Danielle flinched. "I don't know…Maybe if I'd married…Done things differently…"

"Don't you mean remarried?"

Danielle blushed. "No…I-I…" She sighed. "I suppose these days it isn't such a great shock as it was in the fifties. I had a one night stand. We were both drunk."

Willow blinked, trying to absorb this startling new facet of her grandmother's personality. *Drunk and sexually active…erm…I mean I _knew _she'd have to have done it at least once…but…erm…* Willow blushed furiously and the two women seemed even more alike in their moment of united mortification. "Wow…I always thought he was an advisor in Vietnam and got killed…"

"It's amazing how easy it was to make people believe that…I moved to California, changed my name and got an income without having to work for it, so people assumed I got a pension from the government."

"So why didn't you? Marry, I mean?"

Danielle smiled a little sadly. "I only ever met one person I wanted to marry…and that couldn't be."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

A throat was cleared quite loudly. Amy was coming closer and Penelope was behind her. *The girl has good manners, no matter who her mother was…* Danielle smiled a little at the irrelevant thought.

"Mrs. Moritz?"

"Yes Amy?"

"I just realized, maybe Dr. Meier can help you."

"Help me?"

"Catherine or Pulchritudia, she put a lot of spells on dad, to make him pay less attention to me, forget me, obey her…they were slowly fading but they still hurt."

Willow nodded. "Oh yeah! And he took us to this place he owns, the big manor out of town, remember Nana? The one with the park you said was magical? Gosh, I never realized you meant that for real… He tapped into a leyline or a manapoint or something and then he touched Amy's dad and then his face was healed and he'd removed the spells and…"

"He did what?" Penelope's words came out loudly and harshly.

"Healed my dad?" Amy looked from one old lady to the other. "T-the light was white, and you know it felt really p-pure…"

"He used leylines to…heal somebody…" Penelope exchanged a shocked glance with Danielle. "Goddess above, Danielle. What did you teach the boy?"

"Nothing like that! I couldn't even begin to get that much control…Earthmother preserve us…he could…"

"Could what indeed? "Simon's dry voice interrupted. He looked at Willow and Amy and sighed. "I knew I should have left you two behind for that…"

Amy looked at Danielle. "So…t-that's difficult? Tapping into leylines like that?"

"Difficult, very dangerous and next to a Hellmouth? Suicidal! What the hell were you thinking Simon? You could have killed yourself and the girls, and Amy's father too!" Danielle was speaking softly but her voice was hard.

Simon started calmly but his voice became hard and angry as he continued. "Nanny…I can't lift a bloody toothpick without nearly fainting…how the _HELL_ do you think I survived until now? I did not become good at using Leylines by choice…you demanded it of me…by giving me a job I did not want, never should've been given and was utterly unable to perform according to the way everybody expected of me. And let me add I am all too glad to be rid off it!"

Danielle had reared back from his sudden anger and Penelope swallowed heavily. Simon ignored their reaction as well as Willow and Amy's shocked and frightened noises.

"I was thrust into a role I wasn't suited for…because of expediency…It didn't seem to matter _then_ that I might die the next day…It didn't seem to matter _then_ that innocents might be hurt because I lacked the power…It didn't matter _then_ that I was scared, unstable and suffering from PTSD…all that mattered _then_ was that I had the wealth to fund the Concordat… So before the two of you judge me and my abilities…think of what I've had to do since _then_ to be able to talk to you _now_."

Simon turned and stalked away. Danielle was crying and Penelope was holding back tears. Willow was shocked pale and silently crying and Amy was crying in jagged sobs.

Joyce stepped out from the kitchen door where she'd appeared as Simon's voice rose. "Well...that was well done…he'll be having nightmares for days." She glared at the two older women. Danielle winced. Joyce put her arms around Amy and kissed the girl gently on the temple.

"Easy dear, he isn't angry at you."

"HE IS! I told them…" Amy waved an arm at Danielle and Penelope.

"Did you? Well, maybe it's all to the good…Simon's been walking a tightrope using leylines for years…he's almost killed himself dozens of times leading Coven attacks on demons."

Danielle looked up, her face streaked with tears. "We all thought he was getting happier…that…he was doing it himself…"

"Not actively suicidal enough to jump of a building does not make one _happy_ Mrs. Moritz." Joyce's voice was sharp. "He loves you…you're the only mother he ever had…and he never felt as betrayed as he did the day you nominated him as Grand Magister. I-I'm not entirely sure he ever forgave you…"

Amy and Willow stiffened. "G-grand Magister? SIMON?"

"Not by choice…and he was hardly suitable…he really lacks the power…he's nowhere in your Nana's or Mrs. Halliwell's or your mother's league." She nodded at Willow and Amy.

"He says both you girls are more powerful than he is… much more powerful."

Penelope sat down, shakily, putting an arm around Danielle whose tears were silently coursing down her face. "We needed him…and it wasn't the money…we needed him, his name, what his family represents…The strength, the history."

Joyce sighed. "Probably everything he hates about it."

Danielle sobbed. "I thought…he needed something…to live for after Vietnam…And the Concordat…We needed him against him against the Five…" Joyce gave her a warning look and Danielle held back whatever she was going to say.

"Danielle…he'd have given the money gladly, no strings attached…But you'd all gotten to used to his father and his Quid pro quo…" Joyce spoke gently but reprovingly.

Willow nodded through her tears. "Nana…why?"

Penelope answered. "Politics…but we should…we should've been there for him more…realized...and we should have let him go after…"

"We should've let him know he was doing well…how often did we thank him? Did we ever thank him for the War of the Five?" Danielle's voice was filled with self recrimination.

"No…Danny…we screwed up…big time. We should have let him step down in '78, after his first term."

Danielle drew in a breath and started to rise. "I'm going to find him…"

Joyce shook her head. "Let him calm down…in his current mood he may lash out…I've never seen him this angry."

"I have. Simon…"

"Has anger issues…And I wouldn't disturb him if I were you…he may lash out without looking or thinking…

Danielle looked at the younger woman anxiously. "But what about the dangers?"

"Hurst and Bchenka are probably following him."

Danielle sat down again. "Very well…" She sighed, closing her eyes, running a hand over Willow's hair. "Willow…do me a favour…never put politics before family."

Willow nodded. "I promise Nana."

Amy took a deep breath. "W-will he still teach us?"

Joyce snorted. "Of course he will! He's been looking forward to it. He's drawn up an actual lesson plan."

Amy gave her an uncertain look. "And ummm…"

Joyce smiled wickedly. "And I'm in charge of discipline…"

Amy gulped, flushing red, as did Willow.

Joyce rose and sighed. "I'm going to go inside…Simon will probably come in through the front door. Her unspoken 'to avoid you two" made both of the older women wince.

"Mrs. Moritz?"

"Yes dear?" Danielle smiled encouragingly at Amy.

"H-How dangerous…?"

Penelope and Danielle sighed. Danielle spoke. "It…depends. On the skill of the adept…and…if Simon can do what you told us…and had been using them for so long…He's got to be very skilled."

"So dad wasn't in any danger?"

"I don't know…I don't know hwy Simon did what he did…and what he did…Now dears…as you're Simon's apprentices we're not allowed to teach you without his permission…so you can't ask all those burning questions..."

Willow's and Amy's pouts were equally disappointed. Penelope and Danielle grinned.

They talked about Willow's sixth birthday party until the door opened and Joyce appeared. Danielle smiled at what she was doing..

"I think your _mom_ is making it quite clear that its time for you to go to bed Willow."

Willow grinned. "Is she looking pointedly at her watch?"

"Yes she is."

"I like it when she does that."

Willow rose, kissed her grandmother and skipped inside, Amy followed after polite goodnights.

Danielle smiled at the perplexed Penelope. "When you've put yourself to bed since age five its nice to have someone else take the responsibility. Joyce is letting her be the little girl she never could be before." Penelope nodded, face thoughtful.


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's note:**

**A short explanation added to this chapter about the Grand Magistracy for ayg. Yes, I do take suggestions like these very seriously. See the advantages of reviews? Your Jenny question will be answered pretty soon as well. **

_Chapter 24__: A coven at breakfast_

When the old witches came inside Simon was slouched on the couch, his head on the backrest. Joyce had gone up to check on the girls and would then head down to check on Xander.

Danielle sat down opposite him. "I'm sorry Simon…I always seem to be doubting you…"

Simon did not move or speak.

"We shouldn't have pressured you into the Grand Magistracy…we should've let you go when you asked…"

"Yes…you should. Hopefully people will listen to my successor when she states that an unwilling Grand Magister is singularly useless."

Danielle sighed. "You're not useless Simon, you never were…we should have done more to show how much we appreciated what you did…"

"Like what? Not send me out to get nearly killed on a bi monthly basis and then discuss how much better my father had been at that sort of thing?"

He sat up, glaring at them. "_Nothing_ the two of you can say can make this right…so let's leave it there. You didn't care for years…I see no reason to care about your guilt now. Heaven knows I've got enough of my own to bear."

He looked at them silently for about half a minute. "He was dying…Pulchritudia had left a minefield of mind charms in his brain. He would've died within the year, in agony. I wouldn't have attempted it otherwise…and I'll show you why I dared take the risk later."

Penelope exchanged glances with Danielle. "Could you, umm reveal a bit?"

"Still don't trust me?" Simon stiffened.

"No…Nosy as hell."

Simon grinned slightly and dug into his trouser pocket and gently tossed it at Penelope. "Do you know what that is?"

"A rather nicely carved piece of jade…" She blinked as her fingers ran over it. "It feels…pure."

Danielle gasped. "An Abluarium…where did you get this?"

"Pat and I made it. He's not a lapidary of great skill so it's a fairly soft stone, but the carvings should protect it."

"You…made…"

"Yes. How else am I supposed to teach Willow and Amy?"

"But…how?"

"I believe I once told you my… " He smiled. "…our family wrote down everything and took everything not nailed down if it was to do with magic? Why does it surprise you there are instructions on creating Abluaria in there?"

"Goddess Simon…"

"And to answer your question…There's a Node point…a Wizard's Node…up there." He pointed in the general direction of Hooghwater.

The old witches sat stunned and his slight grin widened. "Yes…Thought that might be your reaction. I felt justified in making the attempt…as I feel justified in taking you there tomorrow."

Joyce came down and looked into the living room. Seeing no dead bodies she let out a sigh of relief.

"Girls safe in bed?" Simon asked.

"All tucked in safe and sound. I'll go check on Xander."

Penelope looked as Joyce left. "A remarkable woman…I've never seen a bunch of teens go to bed with so little fuss…"

Simon crossed his arms and almost pouted. "I don't know how she does it, I can glare at clocks, make pointed remarks but they won't go to bed for me until I actually say it. Twice."

Penelope exchanged a look with Danielle. "Don't complain too much Simon…that's more than most parents manage…"

The adults sat in the living room talking. Joyce and Simon had made up the beds in the spare basement rooms quickly, vetoing a stay in the Sunnydale Arms. The boarding house was ill kept in her considered opinion.

Danielle looked at them seriously. "I'd like to thank you. For Willow."

Joyce smiled. "Why do you feel the need to thank me for something that I love doing?"

"Possibly because no one else would do it? I would've done it when I was younger…"

"And you'd have done it well." Joyce looked at the older women and rose. "And since tomorrow is a school day and I've got to preside over breakfast for the hungry masses I'm calling it a night."

Penelope smiled. "Is that a diplomatic way of letting us know we look worn out Joyce?"

Joyce looked down self consciously. "Maybe, a bit. But…it's been an emotional few days and I could do with sleep myself." Simon smiled and rose as well, hugging her.

"I'll close up. You can stay up if you want to?" He addressed the last at the guests who smiled.

Penelope answered. "Hardly. We drove from LA and we had an emotional day as well. And I drove over from San Fran the day before."

Simon nodded. "And tomorrow I'll take you to the hospital to have you checked out and then we'll go to Hooghwater to see if I can do something about your enchantments Nanny."

"Simon, it's far too dangerous. I'm an old woman and…"

"Nanny…Don't…Willow would never forgive me if I didn't try…"

Joyce leaned into him. "And he wouldn't either. He feels guilty enough about not realizing it wasn't a natural stroke and only visiting you once a year."

"Joyce!" Simon looked embarrassed.

Danielle laughed a little sadly. "Oh Simon…you've found your match. And I did raise you, you know, I know how guilty you get." She chuckled. "At least I don't have to drag myself upstairs to tuck you in. I can let Joyce take care of that."

"I assure you Nanny, that Joyce has entirely different means at her disposal to calm me down." He winked, and Joyce blushed.

Penelope laughed at the expression on Danielle's face. "Oh dear…it looks your little boy is all grown up…"

The white haired lady rose, sighing. She looked at Simon and took a hesitant step towards him. "Simon…"

He gave her a considering look and then stepped forward, engulfing her in a hug. "Simon…I'm so very, very sorry…"

"So am I Nanny…"

"Thank you…for not…for…"

"I understand Nanny…Maybe one day…"

"Thank you."

Joyce smiled a little sadly. Danielle finally loosened her hold on Simon and stood back. Joyce walked up to him and hugged him. "Ready for bed?"

"Yes." He kissed her lightly and she made a little purring noise, stopping only when she remembered they had an audience.

Danielle grinned. "Well I suppose we'd better get to bed then Penny, other wise they won't get enough _sleep_ tonight…" She winked at Joyce.

Joyce groaned and buried her face in Simon's shoulder, who smiled down at her golden curls. "Go to bed love," Joyce sighed and practically ran up the stairs. Danielle and Penelope looked after her with some amusement.

"Don't keep her waiting too long now…" Penelope grinned as she headed for the kitchen and the basement. Danielle merely chuckled. Simon rolled his eyes, locked the doors, set a few wards and turned off the lights before going upstairs. Joyce was in bed with her head buried under her pillow.

He sat next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Joyce?"

"How am I supposed to look her in the eye tomorrow?" He voice was muffled by the pillow and her embarrassment.

He smiled. "Oh love…Nanny had an adventurous youth…I hardly think anything we do in here will shock her...and I'm certain she's very happy for us."

"She's your mother Simon. She's your mother in all but blood. And now she thinks were up here…"

He snorted and kissed her neck, slowly licking and nibbling, caressing her back and shoulders, making her almost purr. "Simon…"

He smiled against her skin. "Want me to stop?"

"Don't you dare."

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There was a certain routine to the Revello drive household. Every morning Joyce and Simon would reach the kitchen almost simultaneously, be it a school day or the weekend, and then they would prepare breakfast. And since none of the children would be awake yet at such an ungodly early hour, there would be kissing and mild petting. Joyce would wear the steel rimmed specs and usually she would end up with her back against the fridge in a rather passionate embrace at least once.

This morning was no different. So it was a slight shock to the two to hear the sound of a cleared throat just as they were just getting into the petting.

Joyce carefully looked beyond Simon's shoulder to see the older two of her three houseguests; she groaned and buried her face in Simon's shoulder. There was a chuckle and Joyce whimpered, and then fled out the door her eyes wet. Simon turned and glared.

Danielle gave him a thoughtful look and nodded, then passed him and followed Joyce out the door. Penelope stood and looked at him with an unreadable expression.

"I must admit you're the last person I'd ever thought to see acting like that…"

"There's always a first time."

"Magister…"

"Not a Magister. I've officially moved my residence to Sunnydale. Sunnydale doesn't have a coven. Hence I'm a Singularis."

She blinked. "Interesting…the Concordat can't even call upon you…I can't say I blame you…You've a right to more than a little happiness and peace."

She gave him a leering grin. "Well such peace as you can get between a house full of teens, the combined hormones of you and Joyce and a Hellmouth."

He chuckled. "I see. So you don't disapprove? Of her I mean?"

"I had a non magical spouse Simon and so did my daughter." She smiled a trifle sadly. "My brother married a witch…"

"I never met your brother…"

"He was latent…and he died in '71, a few weeks before you came back. He killed a warlock called the Witch Hunter…said he had to, to safeguard his family." She smiled sadly. "His wife died fifteen years earlier…they never had children…he was a good, decent man."

"I'm sorry I never met him."

"So am I, I think if you had, you would've helped him…and I would at least still have one sibling."

Simon gave her a look. "You had another?"

Penelope started squeezing oranges. "My sister…she ran away from home at fifteen. I haven't seen her since"

"I see…Can I ask her name? I do have certain non-magical resources…"

Penelope considered a moment, watching the orange as she pressed it down on the electric juicer. "I-I don't know…"

"It might help…bring closure…"

Penelope threw the half orange in the bin and picked up a new one. "Philippa. Phillipa Cecilia Johnson if you want to be complete…"

Simon dropped a pile of plates and swore violently and loudly in Dutch. Then he sat down and swore some more. Penelope looked on wide eyed and rather pale. Joyce ran in, cheeks flushed with worry.

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Joyce Summers hadn't felt this embarrassed in years. Then she heard the voice calling behind, not too loudly so as not to wake the children. "Joyce…Will you stop being embarrassed for being in love?"

"What?"

"Penelope and I aren't teenagers. We both have given birth and are _fully_ aware of the mechanics and the joys of sex and kissing." Danielle gave her a dry look.

Joyce flushed furiously. "But…"

"Joyce…we were young once…" Her mouth flickered into a smile. "Well, I doubt your daughters would qualify you as young, but still, we were younger once, and we enjoyed what you and Simon are doing…"

Joyce let out a whimper.

"Good heavens dear…you're acting like you've been caught naked on Times Square, not kissing in your own kitchen. I can assure you I've done worse and Penelope…was quite into the Hippie movement, and got engaged no less than six times. I'm not completely certain how often she was married…I may have fallen asleep for a bit during the ride here…" She thoughtfully tapped her chin, "no matter really, I'm certain she's had plenty of men in between."

Joyce's whimper became louder.

Danielle started laughing softly. "Oh dear…this is about me being his mother of sorts isn't it?" She put a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "So this is not helping…Joyce…you may not believe this…but this is the happiest I've seen Simon since he was about five years old…when I first became his nanny…his nurse was completely under his father's thrall, his mother was a pill popping alcoholic and well the less said about his father… And I didn't help with foisting the Grand Magistracy upon him…I don't know how much he's told you…?"

"Everything. From the beatings to the fight the day before his eighteenth birthday to the….umm… _experiments_ of his youth. Nikki…The War against the Five…He said he wanted me to know everything so I'd never be surprised…"

"It's amazing he's willing to kiss you in a place where there's even the slightest chance of being seen. I thought yesterday was extraordinary enough…"

Joyce blinked. "Ummm. He's kissed me in front of the children, and in the Gallery and at the restaurant and outside against the car and in the park…"

Danielle gasped, her left hand clasping into a fist on her chest, the right on her stick. "Oh Goddess…" She took a step towards Joyce who looked at her in amazement and was even more amazed when she was dragged into a hug.

"Thank you. After his mother's death…I was certain he'd never…"

Joyce hugged the older woman back. "Most of the work was done by Marcel and Margaret and some other friends out East I haven't met yet…And Charles of course…I'd think you were more aware of his progress…"

"Joyce…I was mostly out of it for seven years…I've barely known my own name certain days…. I've only been recovering since Catherine Madison's disappearance. I know he visited…but most of the past seven years are a blur of images and attempts to get my mind back."

"Oh… I see."

"What does Marcel have to say about it? About you and Simon I mean? And Charles? How is the old coot anyway?"

Joyce blushed. "Ummm…Marcel's rather amused…and apparently he wasn't expecting the recovery to be so…ummm…complete. But when Buffy started complaining about the mushy stuff between us being worse than facing vampires… Charles is coming over for Thanksgiving. He may be here for Veterans' Day…some of his old army comrades live in California."

"Buffy talks to Marcel? About facing vampires?" Danielle unerringly homed in on the part of the conversation that Joyce had tried to gloss over.

Joyce gave the older woman a brittle smile. "And here I thought you'd figured it out already…Buffy's the Slayer."

Danielle tightened her hug. "Oh…you poor thing." Joyce tried to hold back her tears but here for the first time was another woman, a mother, who immediately understood. She started sobbing and Danielle held her close. It didn't take long for Joyce to regain control but the old witch made a mental note to make certain her shoulder was available for a longer cry at a later time.

"Thanks…Simon…Simon."

"Simon understands as well as any man can. But he's not a mother."

Joyce gave her a grateful look, wiping her eyes. "Yes…so…am I an acceptable daughter in law?"

"Oh very much so dear, that was clear from the moment I saw him look at you."

Joyce grinned. "Glad to hear it. At least _one _of our mothers approves."

Danielle shrugged. "I'm just happy for the two of you." Her mouth quirked. "_All_ of his…experiments?"

Joyce flushed. "All of them…I must admit…some of the people he's been with…wow…and you know, the…ermm…images that come to mind of him with, errr certain people…"

Danielle blinked and flushed at the dreamy expression on Joyce's face. Then she saw the wicked twinkle in the younger woman's eye and gave her the glare that had had Simon quaking in his boots as a ten year old.

"There a certain things a surrogate mother does not want to know."

"Oh really? Not even the really juicy bits?"

Danielle winced. "Especially the really juicy bits…Joyce…" She said it warningly as her sort of a daughter in law opened her mouth to let out a piece of knowledge Danielle was certain she'd never be able to erase from her mind. Whatever Joyce was going to say was interrupted by a loud crash from the kitchen accompanied by Simon's angry voice swearing in Dutch. Danielle felt Joyce stiffen. "Hurry dear, I'll follow."

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Joyce arrived in the kitchen to see Simon sitting at the island. She saw the pale worried face of Penelope Halliwell and all her protective instincts came to the fore.

"What happened? What did you do to him?"

"N-nothing…we were talking about my family…"

"Your family? Talking about your family?" Joyce moved next to Simon and put a hand on his shoulder; he stiffened but did not move. She moved closer and leaned into him. Danielle limped into the kitchen and took in the scene. She limped up to the stool opposite Simon and heaved herself onto it.

"So…what happened?"

Penelope sat down as well. Noises from below and above showed that the children were waking up.

"We talked about my family…"

Danielle looked confused. "Prue, Piper and Phoebe? He's known about their potential for years; why would that upset him?"

"No, my brother and sister."

Danielle gave her a look. "Brother and sister…I didn't know about any brother or sister."

"My brother is dead, he was a latent. My sister ran away from home when she was fifteen. She was…very powerful and she hated her destiny with a passion."

"Aha. Well I can imagine…"

"Philippa Cecilia Johnson." Simon's voice sounded tired and old. Joyce staggered and almost fell, would have if Simon had not supported her.

Buffy ran into the kitchen in her dressing gown and wielding a mace. She took in the scene and tried to hide the weapon nonchalantly behind her back. Xander came up the stairs carrying a baseball bat and a bastard sword. There was a clatter on the stairs and Dawn came in view, kept from fully entering by Willow and Amy, both of whom were carrying a short sword in a rather inexpert manner. Danielle and Penelope exchanged looks. Xander nonchalantly threw his weapons back into the basement where they landed with soft thuds on a pile of garden lounger pillows. Amy and Willow only managed to look sheepish, fumbling with the hilts of their swords.

Simon took a deep breath. "Buffy…would you get some photographs of your family please, especially those of your grandmother and aunts. As young as possible" Buffy gave him a strange look but at her mother's affirmative nod hurried to the dining room closet. She was back in minutes with the oldest albums. There was a picture of her grandparents holding her in there, as well as her parents' wedding. She remembered something and ran upstairs and returned with the small framed photograph of her grandparents' wedding. Joyce pointed at Penelope who accepted the picture with trembling hands.

"Pippa…"

Simon swore, rather inventively in five or six languages and stormed into the garden, slamming the door behind him with a loud bang.

Buffy glared after him, and then moved to support her shocked mother. "Okay, what just happened there?"

Danielle ran a hand through her hair. "Let's just say…coven politics. Simon is afraid people will politicize his love for Joyce."

Xander blinked. "What? Why?"

"The Johnson family is a branch of one of the oldest and most powerful magical families in the USA, the most powerful Spirit wielders…there is only one family older and, well lets say that people have been wondering what would happen if the twain should mix…and how the politics of it would play."

"Meier." Joyce whispered.

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"That's not it." She took a breath and looked at the teens. "Buffy, Willow, Amy, Xander, you're responsible for a decent breakfast. Dawn, you're responsible for eating well and not getting in the others' way." She rose. Taking in the collective pouts she smiled indulgently. "I'll make pancakes tonight…and teach you lot how to make them...properly."

Willow and Amy nodded. Buffy looked considerably less sure. Joyce waved her over and whispered in her ear. "Just make sure Dawnie eats ok, I know you're not good in the kitchen…yet." Buffy nodded. Getting Dawn to eat was something she could do.

Joyce saw Willow edging towards the cloche and sighed. "Willow…breakfast is more than just cheese…" The redhead blushed and moved away, still looking longingly at the paper wrapped Cheddar.

Joyce turned to the adults. "Let's go sit in the dining room." She grabbed the carafe of coffee that Simon had set brewing before they started kissing and Penelope picked up four mugs, possibly hoping Simon would join them later. Danielle grabbed the cream that she knew Penelope used in her morning coffee.

They sat around the table. Joyce filled the mugs with coffee. Penelope sniffed at it and raised her eyebrows. "Strong. Smells lovely"

"Simon made it. He…is partial to good coffee. And I think he picked up his notions of strong in the army."

Danielle smiled. "You said that it wasn't politics."

"No…Simon…his father…tried to arrange marriages…it started when Simon was twelve…when Simon left home…part of the reason he never came back was because he was afraid his father…would implant something in his mind."

Danielle winced. "Oh dear…I knew about the attempts at arranging marriages of course…"

Penelope looked from one woman to the other in astonishment. "Would his father do that? I mean, I never spoke to the man much but he always seemed perfectly charming…"

Joyce spoke harshly. "Simon describes him as the nicest mass murdering psychopath he ever had the pleasure to need therapy about." Penelope opened her mouth to reply and Joyce raised a hand forestalling her words.

"I know he saved the world several times. So does Simon, he just disagrees with his methods of doing so. I disagree with the way in which he raised Simon. And nothing you say will make me change my mind."

Penelope gave her a look. "That bad?"

Joyce nodded. "Worse. Can either of you see that sort of thing? Tampering with his mind?" Joyce's voice was anxious.

Penelope and Danielle both nodded. Danielle sighed "But only if he'll let us…his mind has always been opaque…he's very good at guarding his thoughts…Even when he was a little boy."

"Courtesy of having them invaded every time he met his father." The venom in Joyce's voice startled the older women,

"Fucking bastard." Penelope's decided remark made Danielle blink. "With your permission, I'll ask him Danni…I don't think he needs his mother poking around in the private areas of his mind."

"I'm not really his mother…"

Joyce smiled. "He seems to think different." She looked at Penelope. "Could you do it fast…before…"

"Before he does something stupid? I'll go talk to him now."

"No need." Simon was standing in the door. Joyce swallowed and he knelt by her chair, taking her hands in his. "I don't care."

"What?"

"If he did…put something in my mind…" Simon took a deep breath. "To make me love you…it would be the only good thing the bastard ever did for me…And I don't think I want to lose it…"

"No." Joyce put a hand to his face. "No, I love you, but no. I won't…I don't want to wonder. I don't want to wake up at night and look at you and think that you might be under a spell."

"Joyce…we took one look at another and we…its hardly natural…" He looked down at their intertwined hands face twisted in fear and grief, loathing and longing.

Penelope snorted. "Danielle…are you seeing this?"

"Oh yes. Now I'm really looking, it's blatantly obvious."

Simon and Joyce looked up in a synchronous movement. "What is?"

Danielle rolled her eyes. "Soul bond, you ninny. Or whatever you want to call it." Simon blinked mouth open in stunned surprise.

"Soul bond? What's that?" Joyce held Simon's hand tightly.

"A match between souls, a destined union. A bond so deep it cannot be sundered. It has many names and descriptions." She chuckled. "I always knew Simon was a closet romantic…Does he leave you roses on your pillow?"

Simon flushed and Joyce giggled. "Yes, he does…so this isn't…"

"I don't think that a dead man's spell could last that long…he died in 1971, Simon."

"We'll soon be certain. With your permission?" Penelope looked at Simon, who sighed.

"Very well."

"I'll need to get a potion from the car."

Penelope left quickly and Joyce gave Simon a sideways glance. "So what does this bond entail?"

Danielle grinned at her. "When he was out there, upset, what was he doing?"

"Kicking my car's tires." Joyce answered without thinking and then blinked. "How did I know that?"

"Emotional bleed over I'd say. You two need to work on that."

Joyce frowned. "So we're telepathic?"

"I strongly doubt it. You're just aware of strong emotions the other is sensing and a general location if you're close or direction if you're not. You can probably sense if the other is in danger or pain."

Joyce grinned at Simon. "Good thing that children are out of the question then, I don't think men are built to take labour pains…And please get off your knees now Simon…I don't think that position is particularly good for them."

Simon got up but leaned forward to whisper something in Joyce ear that made her blush furiously and thump his shoulder quite hard with her fist. She hissed at him. "Stop that you jerk!" She hid behind her hair and refused to look at him or Danielle.

Danielle gave Simon a measuring look. Simon looked at the table. "I think you have some apologizing to do young man…"

"Yes Nanny." Simon sounded contrite and sat down. He took a breath "I'm sorry love…that was inappropriate."

"Apology accepted."Joyce nodded and then leaned forward whispering in his ear. This time it was Simon who flushed.

Joyce grinned at Danielle and then grew serious again. "Why does Penelope carry a mindreading potion with her?"

Danielle looked embarrassed. "For me…I wanted to be sure…"

Simon ah-ed. "That Willow's foster parents would be good for her and weren't just interested in her for her powers."

"Yes."

"Understandable." Penelope came in and sat down. She pushed the potion at Simon who opened it carefully and sniffed, grimacing.

"You rather than me…smells vile."

Penelope shuddered. "Tastes worse…" She downed the potion and grimaced. She closed her eyes. So did Simon.

"I need to look at the memories of your father…get a feel for his magic."

Simon nodded. Penelope's eyes opened in shock. Her mouth twisted in revulsion. "Holy Goddess…the bastard…" She sat for a minute or so, her eyes closed before she shook her head. "Well there's no spell or anything like that." She gave Simon an amused grin. "A healthy amount of lust…"

Simon flushed. "Yes, thank you."

Joyce giggled and mouthed "I told you so." at him.

Penelope laughed. "And incredible control. Which explains your ability to use Ley lines as you do."

Danielle grinned at the couple. "Control huh?"

Joyce blushed bright red again. "I-I'll go help with breakfast." She rose to leave.

Simon groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Will you two stop teasing us about our sex life you dreadful dried up old harridans!"

Penelope and Danielle exchanged looks. Joyce grinned from her position near the door. "Nice one Simon. Come on, we've got kids to feed. There may even be some cheese left."

Danielle grimaced. "Do you think we deserved that?"

"I didn't. I'm not dried up."

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Willow pounced on Simon the second he walked into the kitchen.

"Dad…what does the Grand Magister do?"

Simon flinched and Willow put a hand to her mouth. "I-I meant…I'm sorry…I-I just wanted…"

Simon ran his hand over his face. "Willow…you've got a right to know." He glanced at the clock. "Well I suppose we've got time for a short lesson in history and magic…"

He put a slice of bread in one of the toasters and pushed down the lever.

"Grand Magisters are supposedly elected by a majority of magic using members of all the covens and serve terms of seven years. They may not resign without permission from the Grand Coven and have to be part of a coven…they can only be forced to resign after losing a duel."

Willow blinked. "Ummm…so how do you get out of it?"

"Usually? Death. All of my ancestors since before the formation of the Concordat have died while holding the office, save my grandfather…who was merely rendered paraplegic."

Simon opened a jar of marmalade and was about to spread a thick layer on his toast when Joyce cleared her throat and looked significantly at his midsection. He dropped half the marmalade back into the jar and got another significant look. Simon sighed and dropped some more. The toast was spread rather thinly.

"Since the founding of the Concordat the Meiers have held onto the position of Magister and High Magister of New York…and except for a short period between my grandfather's…physical incapacitation and father's majority the Grand Magistracy as well."

"D-did your father kill him?" Amy asked with a touch of fear in her voice.

"No…_she_ was allowed to step down…you see, the Secretariat, the bureaucracy of the Concordat has always been funded out of private means…and the only family with the wealth to do so…"

Buffy nodded and spoke, spraying crumbs over the table. "Are the Meiers."

Jocye sighed. "Buffy, manners. Don't speak with your mouth full."

"Sorry mom."

"The Grand Magister searches out enemies of the Concordat, rogue magic users, demons, you name it, and leads local covens in battle…The High Magisters do the same on a District level."

Amy shook her head. "That's silly. I mean, the Grand Magister, everybody knows who he is… if everybody knows who you are…they'd kill you, just like that!" She snapped her fingers "When you're not looking!"

"Well…yes…one reason why it is not a very popular job…but the Concordat does cast a number of powerful spells on its High Magisters, the Questors and the Grand Magister…wardings that prevent their identities from becoming known outside the coven. No one sworn to the spell can break the warding. Those who try usually die insane."

Amy looked frightened. "So…"

"If you knew…and tried to tell…as my apprentice…yes, you'd go insane."

Amy gulped down a swallow of milk and exchanged a frightened look with Willow.

"So what else does he do?" Willow asked in a rather timid voice.

Simon gave her an understanding look. "He also proposes policy on national matters and controls the foreign affairs of the Concordat."

"Foreign Affairs? Like what?" Willow asked in curious voice.

"The other national covens…the Supreme Mugwump of the International Wizards' Confederation…like that."

The redhead scowled. "Oh haha. Make fun of your daughter who asked a serious question, why don't you…Supreme Mugwump?"

Simon shrugged and grinned. "These are people who wander around in robes swinging wands and consider all people who cannot use magic to be inherently inferior…ride broomsticks in a game they call Quidditch. And have yet to divine the use of electricity or I sometimes think the wheel. So a stupid name like _that_ is hardly going to stop them…"

Willow looked at her grandmother in disbelief. "Nana?"

"It's true dear…Simon also very nicely avoided that the Grand Magister has to deal with the Watchers' Council…How many did you banish from the US last year?"

"Eighteen…a further eleven were handed over to the appropriate authorities for kidnapping, attempted kidnapping and various other crimes." Simon smirked.

Buffy looked thoughtful and a bit scared. "Kidnapping?"

Danielle looked at Simon, who sighed. "Not all Watchers are like Giles…or Merrick…they take Potentials or Slayers away from their families…kidnap them as babies if they think it necessary. I won't stand for it. And neither will the Concordat…otherwise I'd never been able to banish them."

Buffy munched a new piece of toast. "And who sees to the training of these potentials?"

"Watchers who are willing to let them live with their families…or take them in if the families don't want them…or my people. They're not left to fend for themselves Buffy."

"So why wasn't I…"

Simon scratched his nose and looked at Joyce. "I think your grandmother may have warded you somehow…But I'd need to ask her."

Buffy growled. "Gran has a lot of explaining to do…"

Joyce rapped the table. "And we will try to keep from judging her until she has a chance to explain. Simon?"

Simon's face went bleak. "There are other…duties…executioner…is one."

Willow walked around the island and hugged him. "Dad…stop it. I love you. I'm sure you only did what you had to do."

"Did I? I sometimes wonder…" Simon looked into the distance and seemed unwilling to talk anymore.

Penelope gave him a worried look. "Well that's most of the duties actually. There's some administrative work, but most of that is done by the Secretariat."

Dawn put down the bowl of yoghurt she'd been eating from, still half full. Buffy gave her a look and she picked it up again. "Sooo…how powerful are you Simon? As a witch, you know?"

Danielle winced. She looked at Simon who was still lost in thought and by the look of him not happy ones. Willow still had her arms around him and she was starting to look worried. Danielle looked at Penelope who smiled and waved a languid hand. Suddenly Dawn hung in the air, a good foot above her stool. As Dawn looked around a little wild eyed Danielle spoke.

"Simon only has magic because his training started so early and was so…ruthless. He should have been latent…he has no more magical talent than a normal man…it's been beaten and forced into him." She sighed. "I-I always thought his power would grow as he grew happier…but...there's nothing there that can grow. Using ley lines…is like walking on razors…He…He's been risking his life not only against every enemy he's faced with magic…but against the magic itself as well…"

Penelope put a comforting hand on the old redhead's arm. "Danni…" Dawn softly dropped back to her seat and hurriedly grabbed onto the island top.

"No Penelope…It's my fault…Simon should have been allowed…to live a life without magic. And after his father's death… I forced him back into it."

Simon snorted, coming to himself. "Don't be ridiculous Nanny; I was voluntarily, if unhappily fighting evil in Britain all through Medical School."

"Yes but…"

"I could've done without the Grand Magistracy, I'll admit, but kindly don't beat yourself up about things you didn't do…" He smiled wanly. "That's my job." He put his arms around Willow and hugged her. The younger redhead sighed in relief.

"I'm sorry…I shouldn't have asked…"

Simon put a finger to her lips. "No…its my fault…I should have been teaching you and Amy much more. I've rather stupidly been waiting until the Abluaria are finished…but I can teach the theory without those quite well."

Joyce looked at the clock. "Okay kids…time to get ready. We'll be driving you to school."

Willow and Amy looked at each other. Joyce gave them both a warning look. "I'll consider going out there and looking at what happens as a transgression of rule two…understood?"

Both young women reddened, gulped and nodded.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's note: **

**I t****ried uploading this two days straight and failed…it appears to be working now.**

**Below are a number of questions asked in a review. ****There are no great revelations in the answers, I just thought they might be better read if they were in the notes. Hope people still enjoy this, and please let me know about inconsistencies or stupid mistakes! And if you like it of course.**

**"supposedly elected" - ooookay. From the same family, all the time (with ONE exception).  
**

_**Supposedly elected...yes, well let's just say Simon does not approve of the way his family has manipulated the Concordat until now. **__**If there are no opponents running...**_

**"may not resign without permission from the Grand Coven" - that explains why Simon couldn't get out of the position. What made the Grand Coven change their minds? Or did he deliberately lose a duel?**

"can only be forced to resign after losing a duel" - hmmm... Did this, historically, lead to lots of duels between family members?  


_**The answer is quite simple: Sunnydale has no coven and is not part of a coven area except the High Coven of California (no one wants the Hellmouth...)...his official residence is now Sunnydale...So he was no longer eligible to be the Grand Magister. In almost any other place they'd simply have asked a few witches to go and live in the place, or founded a coven centered on it, but not lived there.**_

**Who was the woman who held the position of Grand Magister between Simon's grandfather and father? ****Surely not the person who made Simon's grandfather a paraplegic? I can't believe Simon's father would simply have allowed her to retire quietly in that case.  
**

_**This will be treated in a future chapter when the Apprentices receive instruction**__**, but I can reveal that the woman did not challenge or defeat Simon XIII. She agreed to step down. **_

******If it takes that much money to run the Concordat, I'm surprised the Meier family still has any money left. Or did they loot from the defeated enemies?  
**

_**It takes several million dollars a year. (About 12 by my calculations**__**, in a year without elections) The Meiers are loaded. Off the scale rich. They've got tax dodges like you wouldn't believe and they've been making millions for generations. And of course a pound of vampire dust does bring in money on the open market...**_

**Well. at least the part about the identity-hiding spells explains why Giles doesn't know. ****But why can Simon tell people? Is it because he was the Grand Magister? Or because he only talks about former holders of the position and doesn't try to say the name of the current one? Oh, in chapter 20 Penelope said that "it will take a week or two to get messages to all the members for the election". Does that mean the election hasn't been held yet? Is no one holding the position at the moment?  
**

_**So far everybody Simon has told has been a High Magister, or family, or an apprentice, people unlikely to betray him. Simon can reveal his previous position to anyone and nothing prevents the Grand Magister from revealing himself, except common sense. **_

_**The election has been held...but it was more of a write in...And there is a new Grand Magister…who will make an appearance.**_

******Sounds like Simon's father was a real piece of... something one shouldn't say in public. But you mentioned in chapter 9 that it was his grandfather who started teaching him when he was very young, not his father. So, was it the grandfather who forced him to "activate" the latent abilities? Considering how dissapointed Simon's father was, I'm actually surprised he didn't try to produce more children.**

_**Simon's father was a lovely man. **__**Just plain wonderful. Salt of the earth. A bit like the salt of the earth of the Romans at Carthage. **_

_**We'll get into Simon's early training when I get to the training of his apprentices so I won't answer that here if you don't mind...**_

_**And who says Simon XIV did not try? And succeeded...He did keep a harem in Hooghwater, or at least a few obdient mistresses, but he needed a certain type of woman to produce a proper heir. We'll be getting deeper into that later as well.**_

_Chapter 25__: Tricksters and Treatments_

Joyce Summers was having a busy morning. It was odd for a Thursday, with some actual buyers and many people just coming in and viewing. And in between she could work on her inventory.

Willow and Amy had been rather disappointed they couldn't be there when Simon performed his healing ritual on Danielle. Joyce however had firmly put her foot down, school came first. Simon would give Penelope a ride to the hospital with Danielle where both would be given a physical check up. After which he'd go to work and then pick the two women up to go to the park. They'd determined the treatment had to take place at noon and there was no time to get his two students out to the park at Hooghwater. There had been much pouting. Which had been callously ignored.

Joyce was a bit worried that Simon might injure Danielle, which would strain his relationship with Willow as well as load him with guilt. But she also knew he couldn't not try it…it was a dilemma…and working would help keep her mind of it.

At half past twelve Joyce realized she was hungry and went to the office in the Gallery to eat her brown bag lunch. She missed her usual lunch date with Simon…but he had work to do…and the afternoon was the best time for the ritual. She sighed and turned on her computer to check her mail and see if the inventory program she'd bought was working.

She really shouldn't have gone for the cheapest option…cataloguing various types of gardening supplies was not quite the same as cataloguing art after all…Maybe she could ask Willow to help…her second oldest daughter had recently been looking rather longingly at certain expansions for her own computer and had spent all her allowance on the old one and her new clothes. A job might be just what the doctor…and the art historian…ordered. Somehow Willow as a waitress at Pizza Hut did not appeal to Simon and Joyce.

And it would allow her to bond with the red head a bit more too…There was a stutter in her mail program and someone called Weeping_tree wanted to chat with her, but she refused. She wasn't comfortable with accepting chat requests from total strangers and certainly not after what happened to Willow. She took a bite out of her ham and cheese sandwich with English mustard…how quickly had she gotten used to Simon's favourite brand…

There was nothing interesting in her mail except further spasm from Weeping_tree and her attempts at using her inventory program kept resulting in an early version of Nick Moore's famous _Iron Flower_ to be classified as 'Salix Laevigata' and poor Tessa's bronze _Child weeping by the river_ had been classified as 'Salix Babylonica' she gave up. She really needed a new program…Or Willow. Or both.

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The Slayerettes entered the library to find Rupert Giles hammering at a keyboard. "Infernal contraption! The fires of hell are too good for you!"

Buffy looked at the smoke blackened machine. "I think its dead Giles."

"I know that Buffy…Don't you have a class to go to?" Giles went into his office and returned with a hammer and a set of insulated pliers. Buffy blinked as the librarian pulled the power cord out of the computer with the pliers, followed the cord to the power socket and then pulled it out there as well.

"Ruddy stupid thing. Nothing wrong with a card file system. The only thing computers ever brought mankind is trouble. Trouble I tell you!"

The door opened again and Jenny Calendar came in, followed by Dave, who was pushing a small cart. "Hello Rupert…I come bearing a new computer. Well Dave comes pushing it, but it's the same thing."

Dave looked at the ground, avoiding eye contact with the others in the room.

Buffy walked up to him. "Hey."

Dave didn't reply, looking down at his hands, clenched on the push bar of the cart.

"Hey. Dave?"

"B-Buffy. Hello." His voice was uncertain.

"Thanks for warning me."

"I-I shouldn't have told you to go…"

"He was called the Corruptor Dave…Simon says it's a minor miracle you out from under his thrall even partially."

Jenny nodded. "Yeah, SoS said the same. He said it needed a strong pure emotion to do that, a selfless reason."

Giles took of his glasses, put them on the table, then his jacket and hung it on a chair and with some satisfaction ripped the monitor and keyboard cords out of the computer. "Whoever this online friend of Miss Calendar's is, he is right…Very few who fell under the influence of Moloch ever escaped under their own power. I'd like to interview you as to your reasons at a later time."

Dave blushed. "No! I-I mean…R-rather not." He stole a glance at Willow who was looking at the new computer on the cart. Xander noticed and grinned at Buffy, who winked.

"If you prefer. Don't you lot have classes?" He looked pointedly at the teens.

Xander leaned back against the library banister. "Naah. We'll stay here and watch the fireworks."

Willow grinned. "We do have to go…and I'm certain Miss Calendar and Mr. Giles want to have discussion about the Victorian era or something…"

All the teens noted how the redhead's words affected the two adults. Jenny blushed furiously at the memory. * Oh god…I forgot…she was there…the whole _SCHOOL_ is probably talking about us…"

Giles had ducked under the table, ostensibly to pull the computer out from under it, but he could feel their eyes upon him and his face and ears were hot. *Bugger. She was there…she'll have told everybody…I must be the laughingstock of the school…No wonder they look at me like I'm a pervert…And that stupid poem…Edwards still can't look at me without that damn twinkle in his eyes…*

Buffy gave her sister a look. "Wills…we are going to have a loooong talk. 'Cause you've been holding out on us…_again _with the secrets…and you know that's _still_ not allowed…Especially about boyfriends."

"Hey, this is not about _my_ boyfriend…" Willow winked at Miss Calendar and quickly walked away. Buffy and Xander followed and Dave hesitatingly did the same.

Jenny groaned. "Oh lord…everybody in the school…"

Giles muttered from under the table. "We're never going to live this down…" He swore and there was a crackle. "Damn! Bloody thing."

Jenny sniggered. "The computer can't help it Rupert…that demon shorted out half of Sunnydale when he went up. And the repercussions of his digging through the internet…I don't even want to think of that."

"That's actually rather odd…it seems as if the damage is repairing itself. Money being returned, files straightened, destroyed data restored…that sort of thing."

Jenny swallowed. "Oh man…not _another_ demon on the internet!"

"If it is, it's not one out to do harm it seems…but we _had _better look into it." He pulled the burned computer out from under the table and looked at it as if it was at least one of the horsemen of the Apocalypse.

"Rotten stupid thing. I haven't been able to register a single book for two days!"

"What happened to the card files?"

"The bloody stupid school board decided to sell the cabinets…and the movers dumped out the cards…" He gestured at the heap of paper piled in the book cage. "Which never would've happened if you hadn't sold Flutie on the idea of digitizing the stupid thing!"

"It's not my fault that the School board decided that they could cash in on selling the old filing cabinets Rupert…I advised keeping it as back up!"

Giles glared at her. "I told you this was bad idea! The entire catalogue is on this thing and now it's destroyed and how in hell am I supposed to track the lending? This is all your fault!"

"My fault? MY FAULT? Where were you when the school board was selling the cabinets? Why didn't you officially object? You didn't, did you? You just gripe and moan and bitch and complain and then shout at me! Where were you when the movers took the cabinets? Did you leave instructions on how they should treat them? Arrange for boxes? Do anything constructive? Did you, you moronic British…librarian?"

"Miss Calendar…Jenny…" The bell rang. Giles looked up. "Don't you have class?"

Jenny glowered at him. "Yes…but we will continue this conversation…later."

Giles sighed heavily as he watched her leave.

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Dave caught up with the others in the hall. "Buffy…I'm really sorry."

"It's okay Dave…We've got experience with people who aren't exactly themselves."

She grinned at Xander who groaned. "Will you quit bringing that up?"

Dave looked at them strangely and turned to Willow. "Willow…I knew…He wasn't real…I-I should have warned you…Kept you safe."

Willow put a hand on his arm. "Dave…Everybody warned me about him…And I still didn't listen. If you'd told me that a demon was stalking me on the internet…I'd have shouted at Buffy for trying to get you to turn away from Malcolm…"

"I-I Should have_ tried_, Willow! I should have done that for you."

"You did your best Dave, you saved Buffy! If you hadn't…I'd never have forgiven myself."

Dave glanced at Willow with a shy smile. "I know."

Xander cleared his throat. "So…are we gonna get into class today?"

Willow grinned. "You want to get into class?"

"Well I sorta heard we got a new principal…I'd like to go one day before being sent to his office…"

Buffy nodded enthusiastically. "I'm in favour of that! Let's go!"

As Xander and Willow went ahead to catch up with Amy Dave lightly touched Buffy's arm. "Buffy…is there anything I can get Willow…that she would like?"

Buffy gave him a long look and then grinned. "Cheese. Real Gouda or Cheddar…but real cheese."

Dave blinked in surprise. "Cheese? Not flowers?"

"Cheese. And flowers." C'mon, let's get to class.

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Danielle Moritz was hobbling through the undergrowth. The old paths through the park were heavily overgrown and the going was rough for an old lady with a cane and an uneven gait. Penelope and Simon lent a hand or arm in support frequently. Still she felt winded by the time they reached the huge standing stone deep in the park.

Penelope swallowed as she felt the ambiance. "Goddess above…"

Danielle let out a sigh. "What a wonderful place…how can anything so peaceful exist so near a Hellmouth?"

Simon had thrust his cane into the ground and had hung his jacket and hat on it, and now was taking of his shoes and socks. "It's a very large abluarium…it cleanses the local ley lines. And it carries Peace and Avoidance enchantments."

"How old is it?" Danielle looked around the shade dappled clearing, feeling the reservoirs of magic that lay under the great standing stone.

"Well…I'd say at least two thousand years."

"Two thousand…I didn't think the Native Americans had this sort of skill in crafting magic…"

"They had Wizards here too you know…The Order was never limited to the Eurasian landmass, it's a bit arrogant to think that the Wizards of the Americas could not do the things those over the ocean could do. Take of your shoes would you Nanny?"

Danielle smiled. "Don't we have to do this skyclad?"

"Not really. I think that was just a lot of people who wanted to have an excuse for running around in their birthday suits. _You _can if you want to."

"No thanks. I've seen you in yours. No need to feel shy…" Danielle smiled wickedly and Simon rolled his eyes.

"Not in a long while Nanny. Get your jollies elsewhere."

Penelope knelt and helped her friend take of her shoes and socks. "Can I join?"

"By all means, nothing secret about it."

Simon sat down in a lotus position and he gestured for the two women to do the same. They did so, Danielle with some difficulty. Simon took deep breaths, closing his eyes. The witches breathed quietly as they watched. The man's shoulders relaxed imperceptibly and his face became serene. When he opened his eyes they were solid orbs of white light.

He leaned forward and touched Danielle on her temples. They sat for a few minutes, silent and unmoving. His eyes scrunched up in pain and Danielle's rolled back in her head. Energy crackled around her, white light discharging on trees and rocks and grass harmlessly and sinking into the earth it came from. The old woman rose of the ground an inch or two and her face twisted into a grimace, her mouth opened and she let out a scream of pain. The crackling light continued for several minutes and the scream rang on and on until finally the last of the white flickers strobed off to earth itself on a mountain oak.

Penelope swallowed heavily as Danielle collapsed on the ground, vomiting a foul smelling black bile. Simon turned to her, his yes still white, face beaded in sweat and twisted with pain and effort. He reached out a hand and touched her chest. Penelope screamed.

Danielle's eyes fluttered open to see Penelope convulsing whilst she floated an inch or two off the ground, thin streams of blood and some yellow brown substance running from her nose and mouth. She shivered. She imagined she hadn't looked much better. She wondered if there was danger…Simon was using magic on Penelope without having previously discussed it…was he taking over their minds? Was he attempting to wrest power back for himself? As Penelope slowly sank back to the ground with tears streaming down her face Danielle tried to sit up, but failed.

Danielle saw Simon close his eyes, saw his face regain its composure as the wracking pains stopped whipping through his body, saw him open his eyes, revealing the dark chocolate brown with the glints of amber and green that had so fascinated her when she first saw him as a serious toddler…and look at the two of them, and her especially, with deep worry. He stumbled to his feet, moving to her, feeling her pulse and helping her sit. He dragged out his folded handkerchief and she used it to wipe her mouth. He moved to Penelope on trembling legs and knelt by her.

The other witch glared up at him, spitting some of the foul brown-yellow liquid from her mouth. "There's water in my bag, and some tissues." Simon nodded and searched through her bag and came up with two bottles of water and a box of tissues. He handed one bottle to Danielle and another to Penelope. Both drank deeply after first washing out their mouths.

Penelope glared at him again. "What the hell was that?"

"I honestly don't know…I think the Spirit of this place felt that you needed help…I heard it tell me that you were still needed and that not just death, but also life may bring unity…" Simon shook his head. "I hate the whole cryptic prophecy crap."

Danielle chuckled. "You sound as if you work with a lot of prophecy."

Simon leaned back against the monolith and spoke in a tired voice. "And lo, in the place of judgment in the Lands of the West, Five shall rise to seize the mantle of power, and four shall be young and one shall be a Queen of Darkness. And the Guardian of the East will fall, and Death will be his dominion."

Danielle rose shakily. "Oh, Simon…"

Penelope was pale. "There's prophecies about you? Goddess…"

"Well…the death ones, those are always fun. And I wasn't sure that one was about me until I found out about Pulchritudia Black."

Danielle ran a gentle hand down his face. "It wasn't your fault Simon…no one would have accepted them…" Her face became thoughtful. "We should reexamine that matter now that we know Pulchritudia Black was involved however."

Penelope nodded. "I'll bring it up next session." She looked at Danielle and gasped. "Holy shit."

Danielle turned to her. "What's wrong?"

Penelope searched through her bag and handed the other witch a small powder compact.

"Take a look for yourself."

Danielle opened the compact and looked. Her face was less lined, there was more colour in her cheeks, the sagging muscles of the left side of her face had firmed up and the drooping lids of her left eye and the down turned corner of the left side of her mouth had returned to normal. And her hair…was far redder, there was almost no white left. A quick look at her hands showed fewer raised veins the skin was smoother and less wrinkled.

"Goddess Simon…what did you do?" Danielle ran a hand over her face in disbelief.

Simon opened his eyes again and really looked. His eyes widened at the sight of her. "I'll be buggered if I know." He looked up at the monolith behind him, as did the witches.

Danielle blinked. "You know…If I didn't know any better…I'd say that thing looks…smug?"

Penelope grinned. "A trickster as Genius Loci?"

Simon groaned and pressed his hands into his eyes. "As if I don't have enough problems already."

Danielle sniffed. "Well I'm not complaining…I don't think I've looked this good in decades." She ran her hands down her thighs, trying to see her bottom by looking over her shoulder. "Do I look thinner to you Penny?"

Penelope started laughing. "Do I look half as good?"

Danielle studied her friend carefully. "You look…a lot better. Less tired…a few wrinkles gone…What ever it was got rid of that ridiculous dye job…"

Penelope bristled. "Ridiculous? I'll have you know that was done by a prize winning professional!"

Simon sat up with some difficulty. "Hairstyling aside…I think that your heart couldn't handle much more…It felt irregular." He stuck a finger in a small puddle of the yellow-brown fluid that Penelope had vomited up and grimaced. "Fat…Now you know what coats your arteries."

Penelope's face twisted in disgust. "Ugh. I suppose you still want me to go to a different cardiologist at home too?"

"A second opinion never hurt anyone…and I'm certain my daughters and niece would like to get to know their great aunt…I'll see to it that the medical costs are covered."

Penelope opened her mouth to protest but Simon silenced her with a raised hand. "I take care of my family…and if I keep you alive longer, I don't need to step up to the plate to help clear up supernatural messes in San Francisco. Pure self preservation."

Penelope took a swallow from her water bottle. "I-I…don't know what to say…"

"Say 'yes'. I'll just have you added to my company insurance plan as a paid consultant."

"Consultant? In what?"

"You did study psychology…I can use you to help settle the members of staff I've forced to relocate to Sunnydale and…"

Danielle had been looking at Simon with narrowed eyes. "Y-you've been paying for me…haven't you? All these years?"

Simon shook his shoulders to try and get the tension out. "Of course I have Nanny. You wouldn't have been happy in a nursing home."

Danielle rose on bare feet and walked up to him, put her arms around him and gave him a fierce hug. "Thank you."

Penelope drummed the ground with her fingers. "Simon…you brought people in to live on a Hellmouth? What about the dangers?"

"Only senior staff will remain…well aware and able to deal with most that goes bump in the night. Most of them will settle out of town or in the cottages here in the park. Junior personnel will be replaced by locals…who will be given some instruction, though most of them are unconsciously quite good at avoiding the most common dangers…"

Penelope grinned. "Well I'd assume the dumb ones get eaten first…"

"Which actually might explain the unusually high intelligence of many of the locals. And it won't be an empty position either…And it will allow you to meet with Joyce and the children more often. Travel expenses would be covered as well of course."

Penelope nodded. "That would be nice; yes…" she pursed her lips. "I'll need to talk with the girls…Mine that is. I'm sure they'll want to meet all of you…"

Danielle giggled and then started to laugh. "What a tangled web we weave."

"Gods yes…next I'll find out Gordon fathered a slew of illegitimate children."

Danielle's laughter halted abruptly, her eyes wide. "Gordon? Who's Gordon?"

"My brother. He died in '71."

"Was he married?"

"Yes but his wife died…"

"In June 1956?" Danielle said in a frightened voice.

"How did you know that?"

"I met a man who called himself Gordon Jackson in a bar in July 1956…I'd just ended a relationship…he was trying to drown his grief over his dead wife…We only spent a weekend together…but it resulted in a pregnancy…Sheila"

Penelope gulped. "Sheila is Gordon's daughter?"

"I-I think so…I have a picture…we should…"

"Yes…As soon as possible…but it explains why Gordon went after the Witch Hunter. Sheila…Sheila was being stalked by the Witch Hunter…He must have guessed…"

Danielle gawped. "_Gordon_ killed the Witch Hunter? He didn't have magic!"

Simon snorted. "In the first place, stress or anger or fear may break through latency…in the second place, am I the only one who finds these revelations about family to be so unbelievably coincidental as to be serendipitously miraculous?"

Penelope took up her lotus position again. "True, latency can be broken through…and Gordon wanted children more than anything…but never wanted to marry again after Mary died. He measured every woman he met against her. And then to find out he had a child…who was being chased…"

Danielle shivered. "There's something going on here…what or who is powerful enough to bring us all together? To reveal these family relationships? What is the point, what use is it to anyone?"

"It seems fairly pointless…it brings us closer together…I would hope. Simon tapped his chin. "I really don't know."

Penelope sighed. "I hate this…we need to know how and what and why this is happening now."

Danielle nodded. "Right. What's the common denominator?"

"We're family." Penelope grinned. "Sister in law."

Danielle rolled her eyes. "My Sheila and Willow are Johnsons…So are Joyce and Buffy and Dawn…Your three girls Penelope…"

Simon grinned. "A veritable trove of Johnsons."

"Shush, then there's Joyce's two sisters?" She looked at Simon.

"Charlotte and Arlene. Charlotte is Joyce's twin; she has a daughter the same age as Buffy, Celia."

"I see…it _is_ an awful lot of Johnsons…"

Simon groaned. "Well Joyce does always say that she wanted a big family but I don't think this is what she meant."

Danielle's sip of water went down the wrong pipe, and she coughed, her eyes wide. Penelope looked equally stunned and Simon, looking between them seemed dumbstruck.

"It couldn't be…" Penelope whispered.

"It could…I mean no one in the Johnson line has ever had _that_ particular power, but can you imagine what it could do with the power of a Johnson line witch behind it?" Danielle grinned.

"It explains everything! The way she adopted Xander and Willow, the way all our family secrets are coming out of the woodwork…I mean Penny, when was the last time you talked about your siblings?"

Penelope nodded thoughtfully. "I haven't talked about Gordon outside the family in years and only when we look at old photographs…Pippa…not since I told Patricia about her when she was pregnant with Prue… We were talking about names."

"And why would I suddenly mention the fact that Sheila is the result of a drunken weekend? I've kept _that_ secret for decades…even Sheila doesn't know…and neither of us is weak willed. She cares for us…and we…respond."

Penelope whistled. "Holy hand basket…the power she must have…"

Simon looked pale but he was grinning at the same time. "A Mother witch…"

"So what happened to trigger this? I mean, if she is _this_ powerful why didn't we find out years ago?"

Penelope looked thoughtful. "Is someone boosting her?"

Danielle laughed. "Of course. He's sitting right there…Love and happiness Penelope! I dare to bet that Joyce has never been happier than she is now. And with every bit of family, every child she gains and can nurture, it will increase."

Penelope eyed Simon. "Some boost."

"She says he's quite good at it." Danielle grinned evilly.

Simon blushed and rose, pulling on his socks and shoes. "Benighted old besoms."

"Well we're not the ones getting boosted. I miss getting boosted. I could do with a good boost."

"Penelope…Stop teasing the boy. He's always had enough trouble tying his shoelaces even when not distracted."

Simon's annoyed jerk broke his shoelace and he eyed the broken end, the aglet dangling sadly. He sighed.

"Oooh, nice strong hands…"

Simon put on his coat and hat, dragged his cane from the ground and walked off as fast as he could with one shoe loose and all the dignity he could muster. The two no longer as elderly as they were witches followed him, giggling. Danielle was twirling her cane as she went.

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They got into the car and Simon turned serious. "Well…know we now what happens when the Meier and Johnson lines cross…"

Penelope and Danielle stiffened. "Holy Mother Goddess…" Penelope whispered. "If you and Joyce have children…"

"I had vasectomy in '66, before I joined the Army." Simon said. "And yes, it was successful, and no reversal is not an option."

Danielle looked just a touch disappointed to Penelope's eye. "Yes…I still think…"

"I know you felt I was too young to make the decision Nanny…and it may have been the wrong one…now…but then it made sense. And yes, I also know how you feel about my military service…" He rolled his eyes.

"It's hardly as if it saved you money on condoms Simon. And as methods of suicide go, joining the Army was over elaborate and ineffective." Danielle spoke pointedly.

"It nearly worked." Simon shrugged.

"I KNOW DAMNIT! AND DON"T YOU EVER DARE TO DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT AGAIN!"

Danielle's angry scream rang through the car. Simon and Penelope looked at her in shock.

"How do you think it felt for me? Knowing that _nothing_ I said or did gave your life meaning? A reason for living? Putting you in the Grand Magistracy may have been…completely _stupid_ but at least your sense of duty wouldn't let you kill yourself outright! Damn it Simon! You're my SON! My little boy! And yes I was selfish, and yes it was wrong…but at least you're alive now…and have a chance of happiness…" Tears had been running down Danielle's face as her tirade continued.

Simon parked the car and drew her in his arms. "Nanny…"

"I-I'm sorry…I…Simon…I'm sorry…"

"I…I need to think about this…I…" Simon sounded uncertain.

Penelope snorted. "You two…I'd suggest counseling but I don't wish either of you on any of my colleagues…let alone _both_ of you…"

Simon grinned. "Well…Marcel has been aching to get his hands on Nanny for years…"

"That's just because he has a thing for redheads." Danielle smiled indulgently and then sighed. "But it might be wise."

"I suppose so…I'm sorry Nanny…"

Danielle put a hand to his face. "Idiot boy…Are you still in the Army?"

"Still in the Reserves…I've been busy with other things…"

"Still a brigadier?"

"No…Major General."

Penelope blinked. "But you're a doctor…"

"Someone has to plan and lead humanitarian missions Nanny, not to mention the medical side of normal ones …and The Top Brass likes being able to point and say there goes a son of a Founding Family, serving his country…good publicity and all. But I'm resigning, sent in the letter weeks ago."

"What?"Why?" Penelope sat up in the rear seat.

"When you don't have much of a social life serving in the Army Reserves is a welcome distraction…when you want to be home with your wife and kids…not so much."

Danielle grinned. "Wife? Have you even proposed yet?"

"No…well…not as such…she found the necklace…and she knew what it meant."

Danielle gave him a look. "And how did she take that?"

Simon shrugged. "Not yet."

"Not yet? Sounds promising. Simon…"

The two women exchanged glances and nodded. Danielle spoke. "What do we tell Joyce? About her Power?"

Penelope tapped her chin. "First I'd like to call talk to a Mother witch…but it's a rare talent…rarest I know off."

Danielle's forehead wrinkled slightly in thought. "I don't know anyone on the West Coast…Simon? The East Coast?"

"Sorry…other than the Beckforths…who're unlikely to want to help us…I can only think of some MoFu witches …"

Danielle thought for second on what he meant before glaring at him. "Very funny Simon…Why does it have to be such a rare one?"

Penelope sighed in exasperation. "Oh heavens Danni! Stop complaining. Your granddaughter is being taken in by a Mother witch! No one has _ever_ described that as being bad."

Danielle worried her lip with her teeth in a way that made Simon think of Willow when she was nervous. "It's just we know so little about it Penny…what if…it made her…"

Penelope snorted. "Danni…you spent hours complaining at me in the car about the girl's lousy parents…why are you surprised that the first person to show her any actual interest, in a maternal way, gets her love so completely? I imagine she'd have done it if Joyce had no magic at all!"

Danielle sighed. "I suppose you're right…but will Joyce see it that way?"

Penelope blinked. "There you've got a very valid point…Simon…I know you don't want to keep secrets…"

"No." Simon's voice was decided.

"What?"

"I'm not keeping this from her. We'll work this out, through it. We'll talk to the children. I will not base my relationship with Joyce and the children on lies and deceit. Not anymore."

Penelope was about to speak when Danielle put a hand on her arm. "They'll work it out dear. And we'll help. Now, onto more important things…what are you doing for Thanksgiving Simon?"

Simon smiled and started the car. "Spending it with my family."

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**I considered Simon's Army Rank for quite some time and consulted several sources. Please consider Simon's words above to be a primary reason why he could put so much time into the Reserves.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's note:**

**I fear ****I will be cutting down the number of updates each week. I wrote most of the above in the Christmas holidays, with a few exceptions and the side stories and The Autumn leaves are turning took some time as well, as does the actual novel…so one or two updates a week from now on I think. **

**I'm glad so many people seem to be enjoying this. I hope it will continue to entertain.**

**Edited to correct a continuity error. Thanks for pointing it out asqwerth.**

**Reviews are much appreciated!**

_Chapter 26: Talents and Cousins_

All staff had been called to the Teacher's lounge to meet the new Principal. The man had locked himself in his office to familiarize himself with the files of the teachers and the students. Giles had positioned himself strategically behind Miss Campdown, the lunch lady. Her ample size ought to hide him from the attention of both the new principal and the irate Jenny Calendar. His ill considered remarks at her, despite the whole mess not being her fault, was the Americans said it, coming back to bite him on the arse.

There was commotion by the door and Giles craned his neck around Mount Campdown. A tiny bald man with a coppery blonde fringe around his bald pate entered. He wore a neat suit and tie and an expression of near terminal disgruntlement.

"My Name Is SNYDER! R. SNYDER! I'm the new principal and I must say you're saddled with some of the worst bunch of juvenile delinquents and barely peripatetic morons it's ever been my misfortune to give leadership and discipline to!" He rifled through a folder of notes.

"And the situation is not helped by the singular lack of enthusiasm displayed by some of the members of staff towards the feeling of unity and fellowship…" He spoke the words with a sneer, "that must be central to any school."

He glared at the gathering, which, rather taken aback, was sitting stunned and silent around the lounge. "So I'm taking steps to remedy it!"

The staff cowered; Snyder gave them a feral grin. "The first thing that's come to my attention is the unwillingness of staff members to see to the continuation of one of the grand traditions of this school…the Talent Show."

A shudder ran through the assembled teachers. Those nearest the little man edged away from him, attempting to avoid his attention.

"I've selected the producer-director for this year's show from attendance records to meetings and teacher participation in school events and clubs."

Some of the teachers let out sighs of relief. Snyder glared at them. They froze like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

"Rupert Giles…You're in charge. Congratulations. Where are you?" There was a snigger.

A dulcet, oh so familiar feminine voice spoke. "He's sitting by Miss Campdown." Jenny Calendar smiled innocuously as Giles glared at her. "A very wise choice, Principal Snyder. I'm sure Mr. Giles had plenty of experience at Drama while he was at Oxford…didn't you participate in the Footlights?"

"That's Cambridge. An utterly second rate institution. I was in the Oxford University Dramatic society."

He blinked. *Infernal woman! She got me with the oldest trick in the book!*

Snyder gave him a vile grin. "Excellent! Experience at Drama. I'm certain there will be plenty of that."

He handed a sheet of paper to the stunned librarian. "Sign up and auditions start Monday next…rehearsals the next two weeks. A total of three weeks before you go live…just before Halloween! It should be plenty to train _this_ school's talent."

"B-but I'm a librarian! I-If I'd wanted contact with students I'd have become a teacher!" The room tittered nervously at Giles' reply.

The little principal leaned in, pinning the taller, more powerfully built man in the chair with his gaze. "You're a _high school_ librarian…and if you'd wanted to avoid this, you should have picked up more students to guide besides the malcontented miscreants in the Homework group. Your contract very clearly stipulates numbers of students and hours spent with them…Mr. Giles…unless you want to start looking for a new job?"

Giles opened his mouth to answer, but shut it again. He needed to be here to help guide Buffy…Without a job…his green card would become void…He swallowed his retort.

"I-it will be a pleasure to lead the school Talent show…"

"Excellent! And as you've got experience, I'll put you down as producer and director for the School play and the liaison to the elementary school for the Christmas pageant as well." Giles closed his eyes in defeat.

Snyder looked back at his papers. "However, my much lamented predecessor wrote that the previous incumbent, the late , refused to act in the capacity again without an assistant…so…who of you is Miss Calendar?"

Jenny, who'd rather nonchalantly been studying her nails while sipping a cup of coffee and studiously ignoring Rupert Giles spewed her mouthful of coffee on her lap. "W-what?"

Snyder almost seemed to lick his lips in delight at her reaction. "I'm sure the two of you will do splendidly." Jenny looked a trifle nauseous. She looked around for support but received none, the only one to meet her eyes was Giles and his glare was dark and promised little good. She took another drink from her cup, lifting it with a trembling hand.

Snyder looked between them. "I'll be talking to each of you individually in the coming days, to get a better handle on the troublemakers in this school…of which there are many. And to discuss your duties."

He glanced at Rupert and Jenny "…Oh by the way…to encourage the students to sign up, I'll expect the two of you to participate in the contest as well…"

Jenny started coughing as her coffee went down the wrong way; a horrified expression on her face, Giles had gone as pale as a sheet.

"What?" They chorused.

"Together of course…unity among the staff must be seen."

On that horrible bombshell Snyder of no known first name exited the teacher's lounge, leaving behind him a room full of defeated enemies.

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Joyce had told Marianne to lock up and arrived at the house first. Penelope's car was absent and neither of the old witches was present. Since none of the snacks had been raided and the cheese was untouched the children hadn't been home either. She was washing her hands in preparation for making dinner when Simon came in.

"Joyce…love we need to talk…"

Joyce paled. "Danielle?"

"Is fine…better than fine…Penelope is fine too…they've gone shopping." Simon looked very serious.

Joyce felt her heart falter. "You…you're ending it…us…aren't you…"

He looked at her in blank astonishment. "What? No!...Joyce…sit down..." He took her hand and sat her on a stool at the Island, taking her hands.

"Joyce…we talked this afternoon, Danielle, Penelope and me… " He took a deep breath. "We think we've figured out what kind of witch you are…I've had Dr. Worthing do some research…And I'll be calling someone later…"

"Witch? I've got magic?"

"Apparently your mother is a very powerful witch even in the Johnson line…Which is the most powerful of all the Spirit channelers in the US…"

"B-but I can't do anything! I've never moved things, or seen things, or done anything remotely magical!"

"You're a Mother."

She glared at him. "Giving birth makes me a witch? Is this some stupid male joke Simon?"

Simon grinned in spite of the seriousness of the situation. "No love…It's a power…a very rare, beautiful and magnificent power."

"Power?"

"Blood power. Spirit witches of certain lines, next to the ability to cast ritual spells and brew magical potions have inherent powers. Penelope's main one is Telekinesis. Yours is Mother."

"Mother." Joyce's voice was cold.

"Yes."

"My aunt can move things with her mind and I'm '_Mother_'?" Now there was more than a little irritation.

"Yes. And its probably one of the reasons Buffy's still alive."

Joyce gulped, her ire forgotten in her surprise. "What?"

"It's a passive power, which means you've got no conscious control over it…but it extends to all the beings that you love and nurture. It grants them luck, quicker healing, resilience, safety…things like that. It keeps them safe and helps buffer them from psychological and physical ailments."

"Oh…" Joyce's eyes were very wide.

"Joyce…it doesn't make people love you…But you may be influencing them, making them do things…helping them… We know too little about it…Penelope has been mourning for her sister for decades and her grief has been festering…Nanny…" His face quirked into a smile…"Nanny had a one night stand with a gentleman called Gordon Johnson…your uncle…which resulted in a child… And she's been feeling guilty about that for years. She finally confessed to Willow yesterday and me and Penelope this afternoon…"

Joyce mouth dropped open. "Wait, wait…Willow is _my_ cousin as well?"

"Sheila's your first cousin…Willow a first cousin once removed…you're more closely related to her than I am." His mouth quirked again.

"Simon…had you guessed this?"

"Hell no. I've been busy all afternoon looking up information on this. Well, have Earnest do it."

"Oh…So you're not leaving me?"

Simon sighed in exasperation. "No."

"You sure?" Joyce looked down at her tightly inter twined white hands.

Simon firmly took the mug from her hands, dragged her off her stool and pinned her against the fridge, kissing her fiercely. When he stopped her hair was mussed, her lips were swollen and her chest heaving and her clothes in disarray.

"Very sure." He whispered hoarsely

He was about to reinitiate the kiss when there was a cough. Danielle and Penelope, both in jeans and colourful tops were standing in the kitchen door, grinning. Danielle was looking at her watch. "You know, I didn't believe Willow when she told me they did this for five minutes without noticing anyone…"

Joyce groaned. "Simon…lets go for a walk…you two…Buffy likes coke, Dawn likes Fanta Orange, Willow still likes apple juice and Xander still likes Sprite. If Janice comes by, she likes Fanta Lemon, as does Amy, but Amy prefers Bitter Lemon, but I'm afraid we're out, there was a delivery problem at the store. The ingredients for dinner are in the fridge and the larder. We're having boiled rice with sauce and veal with salad and green beans. And as you know I'm teaching the children how to bake pancakes for desert."

Penelope raised a hand…"Ummm…"

"And you two can keep the kids occupied; tell them we've gone for a walk… Or have fun making up excuses that won't freak them out too much. Oh, and keep Xander, Dawn and Janice out of the Twinkies, Willow out of the cheese and Buffy and Amy out of the jelly donuts."

"Joyce!" Danielle gave her a shocked look. "It's been years…"

Joyce took Simon's hand and dragged him off. "You two've been having fun at the expense of our sex lives since you got here, well, I've had enough. I'm taking Simon out and I'm gonna, in his parlance, snogg his brains out. And you two can think back and try and remember what it was like!"

Penelope looked at Danielle. They both looked at the now empty kitchen. They heard giggles coming from the porch and a delighted-shocked "Simon!" from Joyce.

"We've just been railroaded into granny duty…" Danielle grinned at Penelope. "She's got the Johnson temper down pat…"

Penelope groaned. "Does she ever…And then we'll have Pippa and Arlene and Charlotte…and Buffy and Dawn. And me and my girls…And Willow. And Celia." She tactfully forbore to mention Sheila.

"Family reunions will be fun." Danielle tied on an apron.

Penelope snorted at the apron. "Kiss the cook? Wishful thinking Danni?"

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Susan Penshaw dropped of Dawn, who skipped into the kitchen and dropped her bag. "Heya great aunt Penny! Afternoon Nana! Where's mom and Simon and…what did you do to your hair?"

The women exchanged looks. Penelope spoke. "Simon did something…or the Spirit of the place…we don't exactly know…but we both feel rather younger and better. Great Aunt Penny?" She ended inquisitively.

Danielle echoed her friend. "Nana?"

"Ummm…well you are my great aunt…and great aunt Halliwell sounds weird, and Great Aunt Penelope makes you sound like a…a …. Ummm. And umm…Xander and Willow call you Nana and they're sort of my brother and sister, and you're sort of Simon's mom, who's sort of my dad…which sort of makes my sort of Nana?"

Penelope gave her a look. "Like a what dear?"

"Sort of Nana?" Danielle inquired pointedly.

Dawn whimpered, caught in the gazes of the two formidable ladies.

Dawn swallowed. "Something good? G-great Aunt Penelope? Mrs. Halliwell? Mrs. Moritz?"

Penelope laughed. "Great Aunt Penny will be fine dear…Or Aunt Penny…it makes me feel not quite so old…"

Danielle ruffled Dawn's hair. "And Nana will be fine as well Dawn…It'll be nice to have another granddaughter. Or two."

The door flung open and Willow stormed in followed closely by Xander, both looking anxious.

Willow halted in front of her grandmother, almost stumbling in her haste, and looked at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Nana…you're…young!"

Danielle laughed. "Younger dear…but I feel a lot better."

Willow threw her arms around her grandmother. "You look awesome! Wonderful! Where's your cane? Shouldn't you be sitting down?"

"In the car, and no, I've been on my feet all afternoon and I feel great. And we're cooking. And you've just been drafted, because Penelope and I know how to cook, but not where everything is in this kitchen." Nana released Willow and hugged Xander. "And you can go and paint the garage or something."

"Hey! I know where stuff is in the kitchen!" Xander was indignant.

"Yes dear…especially the twinkies…Dawn! Dinner's in an hour!" The last stopped the guilty looking girl from sneaking one of the golden snacks out of the cookie box.

"Willow! No cheese." Willow pouted, closing the cloche where Joyce had put the Gouda, Parmesan and cheddar to reach room temperature.

Penelope spotted Amy and Buffy edging into the kitchen to the bread bin on top of the fridge that was used for storing the bounty of the British Bakery. She gave them a glare and the two girls stopped guiltily.

"But…" Buffy whined.

"No! Dinner's in an _hour_…Surely you can hold out that long? Willow! No cheese!"

Willow guiltily withdrew her hand from its second, stealthier approach to the glass cover. The girl pouted again. "Oh very well…where are mom and dad?"

"They went for a walk. Among other things."

Buffy groaned, as did Willow and Xander. Amy looked half amused half nauseated. Dawn happily bounced onto a stool. "Cool."

The older teens blinked in surprise. "What?"

Dawn gave them an arch look. "Its simple…as long as they're all touchy and lovey-dovey we'll know they love each other…and they'll stay together and I want them to stay together and therefore them going out for a walk and smooches is good."

The other children exchanged glances. "Annoying ten year olds and their annoying ways of stating the obvious." Buffy looked at her sister.

"Annoying ten year old who wants to rub in her so called superiority…" Willow thoughtfully looked at Dawn, who started to move sideways of her stool.

"Annoying ten year old who deserves… DEATH BY TICKLE!" Xander pounced.

The older siblings attacked. Penelope and Danielle tried to restrain them. Amy followed sedately. After a number of discreet stops.

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When Joyce and Simon arrived ten minutes before the dinner hour Penelope and Danielle were in the kitchen and the children in the living room.

"Oh thank the goddess, you're back!" Danielle almost whimpered.

Joyce smiled impishly. "Oh? You had problems?"

"They tickled Dawn and Amy sneaked donuts, twinkies and what must have been half a pound of cheddar out of the kitchen while we tried to help Dawn."

"Help Dawn? Why ever would you want to do that?" Joyce looked at them in amazement.

"What?"

"They don't mean it…I think Dawn would be highly disappointed if she didn't receive one death by tickle a week."

The older witches exchanged looks. "They tricked us…"

"The little sneaks…"

Simon and Joyce exchanged looks. Joyce started to giggle. "You two _are_ out of practice. I'll make sure you get plenty of it."

"Joyce!" Danielle glared at her.

Penelope shook her head. "This was like herding cats…I thought I was used to dealing with kids…but phew…"

Joyce laughed this time. "I was just wondering…if you were available to watch them tonight…or next weekend…"

Penelope and Danielle winced.

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Dinner had been highly successful, even if the children had somewhat spoiled their appetites. Janice had not appeared, but Amy had stayed. Her father had gone to the hospital with one of his workmen, who'd staple gunned himself to a beam.

After dinner they settled in the living room, with coffee, tea or hot chocolate as preferred. Willow and Xander sat by Nana, Dawn between Joyce and Simon, Buffy at Joyce's other side and Amy had been hauled onto the couch by Penelope. The girl looked stunned at the fact and sat silently sipping her chocolate.

When everybody had been served and seated Danielle sighed. "Well…there are some things that must be told…Willow…would you come with me? There are some things about the family you should know…"

Willow looked around the room. "No…I don't think I'd keep it a secret from anybody here anyway. Or if it's, well, it should be kept secret, tell me at a later time when everybody doesn't know I've got a secret and will start badgering me for it, or maybe we can sorta do it in batches? You know, a secret a day?"

Joyce smiled and silenced her daughter's babbling with a gentle look. Willow blushed. "Sorry mom."

"No apology needed dear. Nana?" Danielle suppressed a smile at the mode of address Joyce had picked up from her children.

"Well…it's a bit embarrassing…But I suppose it does directly concern most of you…But anyway, in July 1956 I had a one night stand with a man called Gordon Johnson…who fathered Willow's mother, and was Penelope's younger brother." The teens looked at each other with slightly stunned expressions on their faces.

Penelope nodded. "And as you already know, Joyce's mother is my younger sister…which makes you my great nieces and nephew." She looked kindly at Amy. And you're included in that as well dear."

Amy gulped and nodded gratefully. Penelope gave her a comforting hug into which Amy seemed to melt with an incredulous look on her face.

Buffy's face was calculating. "So…Wills is my cousin?"

"Yes. First cousins once removed."

"Cool." She grinned.

Willow sighed. "So…that was the grand revelation? You knew this, Dad? This was why you didn't tell me I was your cousin?"

"No…I was unaware of who your grandfather was…" He took a deep breath. "In 1977, shortly after the death of Nikki Wood a situation came to a head that had been building up for several years. A group of witches had decided that the way things were run by the Concordat was old fashioned, patriarchical autocratic and a waste…they felt that magic users should rule over those without magic, ignoring the rather fatal lessons about that in our past…and they wanted to increase the power of the magic users by breeding like to like…the most powerful magic users, the most eminent families, to produce the strongest possible offspring."

He took a sip of tea. "The actual engagement was fairly short…they were intelligent women but no match for the resources available to the Grand Magister…me. They were magically highly secretive, but failed to use code in speech. phone calls or letters. They were all known to the Concordat long before they made their final move."

Danielle sighed and took up the story. "And the Concordat struck back hard when they did…We lost a great many witches that day. They lost fifty seven, we eighty three…some of the most powerful, gifted witches in the USA. The Concordat…won. If anyone wins in a civil war"

Simon took up the tale again. "The surviving plotters were put on trial. The less powerful ones, the less deeply involved, were fined or flogged or incarcerated for a short period of time. The five ringleaders…

The leader was a very powerful witch called Marilyn McGonagall…who fought until she had to be killed."

Amy started. Penelope gave her a soothing hug. "Yes dear…your mother's maiden name…Your grandmother."

"But…"

"It's a very old and distinguished line dear…and regrettably apparently the victim of Pulchritudia Black."

Simon continued. "The other four were Eileen Beckforth, Hester Perkins, Juanita Alvarez and Sheila Moritz…"

Willow gulped; her eyes very wide.

"Sheila was the most powerful of them…the most powerful witch in the world at that time. She covered the retreat of the other three and was captured. Hester Perkins and Juanita Alvarez were caught later that month…Eileen Beckforth disappeared and is presumed dead. The Grand Council did not want to lose the potential of their lines…and they decided almost unanimously, to burn out their magic, regardless of the psychological effects that might cause."

Danielle snorted and her mouth twitched in distaste. "We got an offer from various places to be allowed to use the survivors for breeding purposes, to strengthen bloodlines, or to use in rituals…all were of course refused."

Simon sighed. "I never knew Sheila very well…she was always interested in magical power and mine was only political and financial…back then she underestimated them."

"You voted against." Willow said it in a very calm voice.

"Yes. Magic was central to each of their personalities…Juanita…she lived…in an institution in New York for two years before she died by her own hand. Hester…committed suicide three years after she was burned out."

"But you did it. Executed the sentence." Willow gave him a look of mixed fear and loathing.

Simon inclined his head. "As the Grand Magister it was my duty…I did my best to minimize the damage…but the psychological damage alone…" His face looked pained.

Danielle petted her granddaughter's hair. "Sheila reinvented herself, threw herself into her career, ignoring all things magical, she married Ira, moved here …had you."

Willow gave Simon a long thoughtful look. "That's it…you think you destroyed my mother's mind…you feel guilty because you think it was your fault that I was raised the way I was…"

Simon's fingers were clenched around his tea cup and saucer. "Yes."

"Nana? Was Sheila…different…before she…before Simon…"

Danielle looked thoughtful. *Sheila…not mother…not mom.* "Yes and no…she was equally focused, but on magic, not her career. She planned on having children…but only because it was the party line…she wanted to foster them out…she wanted all the advantages and none of the disadvantages of motherhood."

"So…if she'd kept her powers…"

"I fear she still would have ignored you for her work and other interests dear. And I doubt she'd have married Ira." She gave Simon a kind look. "Simon…just blames himself for not fighting harder…and now he's even worse because you're here because he lost the argument in Council"

Willow blinked and looked at her foster father. "What?"

"I proposed a death penalty…I thought it… kinder."

Willow looked at him as if he was insane. "Death _kinder_?"

"Yes…Willow…Living without magic…after having used it, lived with it…is difficult."

Penelope nodded. "For some people…yes…and in hindsight…I agree with Simon."

"You…you were…"

"I was delegated to vote instead of your Nana…even a High Magister would be hard put to fairly adjudge a case involving a daughter…We all voted in favour of Burning out, except Simon, who voted for death. The only good thing to come out of that is you…two young women killed themselves…in rather gruesome ways…" Her face grew bleak. "And considering what was going on in Britain at the time…I fear the worst for the fate of Eileen Beckforth."

"I fear Sheila only survived because of her focus on her work, Willow…" Danielle's voice was regretful.

Willow nodded, thoughtfully. She turned her emerald eyes upon Simon who met her gaze unflinchingly. "So…you feel guilty because you wanted my mother, who from what I hear is even less a nice woman than I already knew she was, to be executed instead of being driven insane or used as a broodmare…And most of the guilt is because I'm her daughter and wouldn't have lived if you'd succeeded…"

She looked at Joyce and Danielle worriedly. "Is wallowing in guilt _this_ much hereditary? I know I feel guilty sometimes, but I don't think it's this bad…Is it a family thing? Or just him? 'Cause if it's a family thing, I don't think I can ever bake enough cookies…"

There was some laughter. Joyce gave Simon an indulgent look. "I don't think Simon's level of guilt is a family thing…And he's a functional wallower dear...But…" She gave Simon a look. He shrugged.

"Simon has done things in his life…had to do…that he's told me about…that give _me_ nightmares."

Willow paled and looked at her grandmother who was gazing tearfully at her former ward. "Oh Simon…"

Penelope swallowed heavily. "I'm suddenly very grateful I never ran against you…"

"Penelope…with your heart problems…you'd never have been elected, even in '92." Simon shrugged.

Penelope gasped. "You knew?"

Simon rolled his eyes. "Dominique Frère saw it in your aura; it was the talk of the Coven that year."

Danielle smiled wickedly. "You should go visit her Penny…soon."

Penelope chuckled. "I might at that…"

Xander cleared his throat. "So…we all through with the heavy discussions? All secrets revealed?"

The adults looked at each other. Joyce sighed. "No…I've got something to tell you…"

She sat back, hugging Dawn and Buffy. "I'm a witch…"

There was a snort from Xander. "Well, we sort of figured what with your mother being one and your aunt and all, that such might be the case…"

Joyce gave him a sad, uncertain look. "The problem is the type of witch I am…the Power I have…" She took a deep breath. "I'm a Mother…I don't know exactly what that means…Simon can tell you that…"

Penelope sighed. "What Joyce is afraid of is that her Power is making all of you…love her…that she's unconsciously manipulating you all to leave your family and, well…join hers."

Xander and Willow exchanged an incredulous look.

Amy frowned and spoke. "So…you think Xander and Willow are nuts?"

Joyce blinked. "Nuts?

"Yeah…you seem to think they have to be under your thrall for them to want to live here instead of with their parents."

Xander nodded. "Yeah, I mean my parents we're only abusive and nasty and drunk, hardly enough for me to want to leave them and move into a place where I actually get warm food and hugs and love…Yeah I can totally see the evil magical influence there…What about you Wills? You miss the lovely, warm, _empty _home you spent at least nine months of the year alone in while your parents communicated with you through their lawyers? "

In answer Willow moved over to Joyce and hugged her. "Mom…you're being silly. Stop it."

"T-That's just it Willow…it took you only a few m-months to start calling me 'mom' and I love it, and you, both of you, that's not it, but…"

"Nana...Do you think it strange? Aunt Penny?" Willow turned to them for help.

The two older witches changed glances. Danielle answered. "No, I can't say that I really do. We don't know very much about the Mother power…only what Simon's archivist found…who wrote that anyway Simon? But…Joyce…I saw how Sheila and Ira and a few times how Tony and Jessica treated Willow and Xander…And I saw them watch soaps and comedies and hear them talk about what it would be like to have a mom like that…A mom like Jesse had…And then I see them with you…And hear you say you love them…I'm not at all surprised they love you back…."

Joyce blinked, tears in her eyes. Willow grinned at her, her own green eyes filled with tears. "See…all perfectly normal. Nothing supernatural about it…"

Joyce sniffled. "Well…I needed you to know…"

"No secrets." Buffy nodded. "Agreed."

Willow grinned widely. "I'd have moved in here anyway, you've got cheese."

Joyce grinned back and put her forehead to Willow's. "Oh my silly little Mouse…"

Danielle smiled at the scene. "Well…then it just remains for me to tell that Penelope and I will be leaving tomorrow morning after breakfast. We both have some thinking to do, doctors to visit and I need to get my driver's license again."

Willow stiffened and Danielle noticed. "Which will allow me to visit more often."

"Almost, but not quite…I've got absolutely no idea what all that magic might have done to you…So you're staying the weekend…and on Monday I'm sending Bchenka along to drive." Simon sipped his tea calmly after his bald statement.

Danielle and Penelope both gave him a look. It was Penelope who spoke. "And how do I explain that to the neighbours? Or my granddaughters?"

Simon shrugged. "I don't care…but you are staying and he is driving." He gave them a commanding glare. "No arguments. From either of you."

Danielle smiled. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Penelope grinned. "I need to make a call…"

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"YOU LET GRAMS DRIVE TO LA? PHOEBE! ARE YOU INSANE?" Prue was in good voice Piper noted, and Phoebe was burrowed deep into the cushions of the couch, feet drawn up, hugging a pillow.

"I DIDN"T KNOW! SHE LEFT A NOTE!" Phoebe shouted back.

Piper winced. "Prue…Phoebe didn't know or she would have stopped Grams…Or at least tried…we all know how stubborn she gets…"

Prue stood breathing heavily, arms crossed. "You should've called! As soon as you found out!"

"And then what? Have both of you over here as well, worrying? Dammit Prue! She knows she shouldn't drive so far alone…If I'd known I'd have driven her! And you both needed to work. You don't need the distractions!"

Prue blinked at the remark and then her fury flared up again. "Taking care of Grams is not a distraction! Tell us these little things…you…you irresponsible twit!" It was obvious to Piper and probably Phoebe as well that Prue had a different term ending in –it in mind.

Piper sighed. *I do wish these two would get along just a little bit better…God I've got a headache…*

The phone rang and Phoebe picked it up. "Phoebe Halliwell…GRAMS!"

At Phoebe's excited shout the other two chimed in worriedly. Prue hit the speaker button.

"Are you alright? Where are you? Are you in hospital? Do we need to come over?"

At the other end of the line Penelope Halliwell held the receiver some distance away from her ear.

Joyce gave her an amused look. "Seems like they were worried about you…"

Penelope sniffed. "I'm a grown woman…"

"With a serious heart condition." Simon added dryly.

Penelope nodded. "True. Phoebe…stop shouting. I'm perfectly safe. I'm in Sunnydale."

"Sunnydale? Where the Fucking Hell's _that_?"

"A few hours above LA_ Prudence_…and _kindly_ temper your language, there's children listening." Prue gulped audibly at Penelope's sharp tone.

"Children?" This was Piper.

Penelope decided to jump in feet first. "Yes…children. Your cousins. Quite a lot of cousins. Huge numbers of cousins. Cousins in sheer unbelievable numbers. Arkansaw Hillbilly numbers." The entire Summers household glared at her. She grinned.

"Grams…Aunt Cheryl doesn't have children, thank God…" Prue interrupted her.

"I know dear…but you great aunt does…and so apparently did your great uncle Gordon."

"What, who?" Phoebe asked in confusion.

"Great uncle Gordon, Phoebe? Pay attention once in while, wait what great Aunt? Since when do we have a great aunt?" Prue blurted out.

"Since the day you were born dear…she ran away from home when she was fifteen."

"And why did it take you so long to tell us? What if she'd come by one day, like some bag lady? And we'd have thrown her out?" Phoebe spoke before her sisters could react.

"Phoebe! That is not the point; the point is we've got cousins. Ummm…How many?" Piper sounded quite excited by the notion.

Joyce grinned and spoke over Penelope's shoulder. "Lots, why don't you just come by and meet us all?"

There was a sputtering noise. "Who're you?" Prue was the one who got in first.

"Your cousin Joyce. You're quite welcome to come by."

"I-I have to work this weekend…the Bealls collection…I need to meet a representative…"

"Travis and Consuela Bealls? How is she? Last time I saw her she was quite ill. I heard the chemo was effective but…well things were dicey." There was honest concern in Joyce's voice.

There was a momentary silence. "Ummm…you know them?"

"Oh yes…are they going to exhibit? Do get them to put the Korean ware on if they do…"

"Oh…ummmm…Do you think you could…?"

"I think I may swing an introduction, yes. And you are?"

"Oh…err...Prudence…Prue…"

"Well Prudence, I'll call Travis later and tell them you've got a family emergency."

"B-but…"

"Your grandmother with a heart condition drove several hundred miles…"

"I'll be there!" Phoebe's voice. There was short tussle. "We'll be there!" Piper had apparently grabbed the phone. "Where are we supposed to be?"

"1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale."

"Check, got it. Thanks. We'll leave tomorrow after work, we can be there at eleven or so, if that's ok with you? Oh, do you have a last name…of course you do…erm…"

"Summers. Joyce Summers. And we'll wait up for you."

"Joyce Summers, 1630 Revello Drive…right…got it. See you tomorrow night! Take care of Grams for us?"

"We will dear…I mean Piper."

There was an anguished shout in the background. "Wait, wait Joyce _SUMMERS_?" Prue wailed.

The phone beeped as Piper rang off.


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's note:**

**Some people have wondered about the status in this series of **_**A Naval investigator in the Ozark Mountains**_**. I would suggest re reading the previous chapter, **_**26 Talents and Cousins**_**. And yes, these characters will make more appearances. **

**A short update because I wanted this part out of the way…heavy mother daughter stuff in the next few chapters.**

_Chapter 27: Sisterly conversation and romantic poetry_

"Well…it looks like a couple of cousins will be coming by…" She looked at Penelope. "Piper's the middle one, right?"

Penelope grinned. "That obvious?" She shook her head ruefully. "I should warn you…they can be quite rambunctious…"

"I look forward to it." Joyce picked up the horn and dialled.

"Charlotte Penkowksi."

"Lolly? It's Joyly"

"Joy? You're calling late."

"I've got news…"

"Getting married?" Charlotte inquired slyly.

"No…this is about our uncle Gordon and aunt Penelope."

"Who?"

"Yes, exactly…Well Aunt Penelope is sitting on my couch…care to come join us on Saturday?"

Charlotte coughed. "Joyce…are you trying to be funny?"

"No…I'm dead serious."

"Oh…Ummm…Is she like mom?" The last was whispered.

Joyce looked askance at her aunt and whispered back. "I think so." *Prue obviously was trained not to use bad language…firmly.*

"Good thing she never babysat then…"

"Yeah. But our cousins are going to be there too…"

"I see…I think this is important enough to show up…" Charlotte sounded whimsical if a touch worried. "We'll be there…Arlene?"

Joyce opened the planner by the phone and leafed through it. "Army weekend. And it would be difficult to get in from Chicago on such short notice."

"Bomber Ellis bombing officers again?"

Joyce grinned. "She only did that once."

"Are you calling mom?"

"I think I'm leaving that to the older generation." Joyce looked aside at Penelope who raised an amused eyebrow, but nodded.

"Okay…we'll be there on Saturday morning. Bye Joyly."

"Bye Lolly."

Penelope gave her niece a measuring look. "Leaving me to beard the lion in its den?"

"Yes."

Penelope blinked at the short answer. "I see…any particular reason?"

"I've no desire to step between two angry witches."

Danielle stifled a laugh as the realisation sank in with Penelope that her magical ability was not what Joyce meant when she used the term. Penelope opened her mouth and then closed it.

Joyce looked around the room where the teens were sitting quietly chatting. "Don't get me wrong…but if they think I'm strict…my mother was ten times worse…and I get the feeling you weren't exactly different. And I know she's got a temper…and…well…sometimes it's better to bow to one's elders."

Penelope sighed. "I suppose…well I think you're probably right…I need to find a way to talk to Pippa…without us killing each other…"

Willow rose and picked up her cup. "Well after all that excitement, I'm going to make some more chocolate. Anyone else?"

Xander, Buffy, Dawn and Amy all held up their mugs. Danielle rose. "I'll help you dear…and I can keep an eye on the cheese…"

Willow opened her mouth to protest and then grinned sheepishly. "But I _like_ cheese…"

"I've noticed dear…and you've just had dinner."

Willow pouted, but not very long. There was just too much to be happy about. She had more family than she ever dreamed of having, and she was going to meet almost all of them this weekend.

Dawn was sent to bed not long after and the teens were gently manoeuvred to bed an hour later, even if the excitement of the day made it almost impossible for them to get any.

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Breakfast was prepared by the four adults together. The children and the older witches noticed that Joyce and Simon seemed strained. This lasted until Danielle realized the probable cause. She and Penny had been up early that morning again, but there had been no kissing… She grinned widely.

"Will you two do us all a favour and go outside and have a quick kiss or two?"

Joyce blushed. Buffy, Willow, Amy and Xander groaned. Dawn giggled. Simon merely took Joyce's hand and drew her outside, out of sight and several minutes later calmly led a dazed looking Joyce back in.

Penelope and Danielle remained at Revello Drive while Joyce loaded the car full of teens and drove

them to school; Simon took Dawn to the bus stop.

The four teens entered the school talking and approached the lockers. A group of girls was whispering in the vicinity of Willow's locker.

Buffy glared at them. "One wrong move or word and…"

Cordelia was at the center of the group. "Yeah, yeah, you get all primate-y and murderish, I know evil stab girl. We just want to know who's pathetic enough to leave flowers for Miss Prissy here." She gestured at Willow and the battered locker.

A pink rose was stuck in the slats of the locker, a slip of paper folded and attached to it. Willow looked at Buffy and Amy who both nodded and then she reached for the flower and the paper with a hand that trembled only slightly and sniffed the rose. Then she unfolded the paper and her eyes went wide and she blushed. Buffy and Amy scooted behind her and read over her shoulder.

'Oh beauteous maiden of alabaster skin,

Whose outer glory reflects what lies within,

With hair like fire and spirit the same,

You've lit my heart with passionate flame,

Accept this rose, 'tis but pale reflection

Next to the beauty of your perfection.'

Buffy blinked. "Wow… Looks like you got yourself some serious attention Wills…"

"Yeah…a guy who's not afraid to express himself in poetry…" Amy sounded more than a bit jealous.

Cordelia cleared her throat. "Hello? Curious people here?"

Willow folded the note again, carefully tucked it into a book in her bag and gave Cordelia a look. "And you can stay curious." She opened her locker, humming to herself.

Buffy grinned at the startled Cordelia. "Sorry Cordelia…I don't think Willow's gonna be very talkative…"

Harmony came into the corridor and immediately started talking to Cordelia. "I like, have to do detention for like ages, 'cause I like, came in a bit late a few times and it's like totally unfair! And my parents like totally don't understand the needs of the young people of this errr…conflagration"

Willow rolled her eyes. "You've been coming in late since the beginning of the year Harmony…nothing unfair about it. It's a miracle it took them so long weeks ago to punish you for it…and we all know about it, so quit yer yappin'! And its generation, not conflagration!" She glared at the ditzy blonde who opened her mouth to reply.

Harmony's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Yeah…errr..Yeah says you!"

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Come along Harm…Before you think of any more witty repartee and we all die laughing."

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Penelope Halliwell stared at the phone number on the bit of paper. Joyce's parents were number five in the phone, but she'd asked for the number. She sighed. Danni had left to give her some time alone. It was strange…she'd never been close to the other woman…and a few hours in a car and several days of shared emotional upheaval…and she felt she had a new best friend. She could use a new best friend, especially one who had once been able to blast demons with a wave of her hand a spoken word. And probably would be again.

Penelope reached for the phone. She tapped the memory button and dialed the fifth number there, marked mom&DAD. It was obvious to Penny who was the favoured parent…

A warm, deep male voice answered. "James Ellis."

"Mr. Ellis…You do not know me, my name is Penelope Halliwell…I was born Johnson…I believe your wife's maiden name is Phillipa Cecilia Johnson?"

"Yes…Might I inquire why you are calling? Is there anything you want from my wife?"

*I'd like her to tell me why she ran away from home, destroying our parents and Gordon and me…I'd like to know why she never called, came back, wrote…I'd like to know all that…*

"I think…I need to speak to Pippa…please?"

James Ellis' voice rang out. "Cece! There's a Penelope Halliwell on the phone for you!"

Penny listened as an extension was picked up and James hung up. "Cecilia Ellis."

"Hello Pippa…"

A strangled noise from the other end of the phone line made clear that Pippa recognized the name and the voice. "Penny…"

"Why Pippa?" *Oh real subtle there Penelope!*

"Don't you dare condemn me! Don't you dare! You've got no idea what I want through! Why I did what I did!"

Penelope blinked at the sheer rage in her sister's voice, rage and tremendous fear. "We'll need to talk about that…Pippa."

"I don't suppose I can ask you to quietly fade away again?" The other woman's voice sounded anxious.

"Impossible. I'm at Joyce's…and she knows."

There was a gasp. "That rat fink bastard Meier…"

"Hardly…I was there to help a friend locate her granddaughter…who's being fostered by Joyce and Simon, yes, but we didn't know that. I take it you disapprove of him?"

"Why_ ever_ would I disapprove of him?" Cecilia's voice was cold.

"It won't help anyway…they're soul bonded."

"S-soul bonded?"

"Yes. Pippa…why didn't you ever tell Joyce she was a witch?"

"Cecilia, please…or Cece…I haven't been Pippa in decades. And I didn't tell her because she was latent. I didn't want her to worry about things she couldn't, shouldn't deal with. "

"She's not latent...she's passive."

"I know the difference Penny…Arlene's primary power is visions, Charlotte's is telekinesis. I can sense the difference between latent and passive."

"Well she's not latent now…she has power to spare."

There was a moment of silence. "What…_gift_…does she have?" The loathing in the younger woman's voice told Penelope that she'd still not made peace with her own powers.

"She's a Mother."

"_Mother_…Goddess…" Cecilia sounded amazed. "No wonder she felt different even as a latent…"

"My granddaughters are coming over for the weekend…Charlotte is coming over with her husband and Celia…"

There was another moment of silence. "James and I will drive up…tonight…Really soul bonded?" There was a little choke in Cecilia's voice.

"Yes…Danielle Moritz and I both realised and saw it. They're…wonderful to watch."

"Tell Joyce…tell her I'll explain…and that I'm sorry…but I wanted at least one of my girls not to be the prey of the darkness…"

"I will Cece…I…look forward to seeing you again."

"See you tonight."

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"How do I look?" Prue walked into Piper's bedroom in their shared apartment. Piper blinked. Piper was dressed comfortably in jeans, shirt and sweater, but Prue was wearing a full suit, the type she wore when trying to get rich collectors to share their wealth or collections with the masses.

"Prue…what are you wearing?"

"A suit. How do I look?"

"Honestly? Like a complete overdressed, over the top dipshit going to a family party trying to impress important relatives." *Basically, like Roger…Oh please oh please, don't marry that douchebag Prue…*

"PIPER!"

"We're going to see Grams and a few new cousins Prue…not the Museum Trustees."

Prue closed her eyes, apparently to calm herself. "Piper…" Her shoulders slumped. "Remember that text book I used…_Identifying art_?"

"Yeah, the really cool one with all the tips we used to buy all that jewellery…Oh…" Piper's eyes widened. "She wrote that? You chose your major because of that book…"

"Yeah…_And_ I was called this afternoon…by _Travis Bealls_, who said he completely understood about us going to see to our grandmother…and that he'd see me on Tuesday to start discussions on the exhibition…and to tell me that I should get Joyce to make us her mother's pasta…and to come visit him and Consuela soon." Prue threw up her hands in despair. "She'd been one of the top assessors in the US for five years when she was my age…and…and…"

"And to make an impression on this woman you put on a business suit? Prue…I don't think that's the impression you want to make on family. She didn't sound stuffy…"

But…"

"Prue…go and put on something comfortable. I'm not going to sit beside you while you complain about your skirt riding up the entire drive." Piper very firmly pushed her elder sister into her own bedroom, closed the door behind her and sighed. She wondered if maybe she should have Phoebe and Prue drive down together…while she took her own car. She sighed and packed the last items for the weekend into her bag. As soon as Prue looked like a normal twenty something woman going to meet family she loaded them into the car and headed for the mansion.

"PIPER!" Phoebe's voice rang out and the middle sister sighed and left her childhood bedroom to go see what was wrong.

Phoebe was wearing a ridiculously short skirt and far too much make up. Her top showed enough cleavage to make Henry Rider Haggard name a mountain range after. She was trying to get the zip of the dress up and it had stuck.

Piper sighed. "Where exactly do you think we're going Phoebe? A job interview at Hooters?"

Phoebe shot her a glare. "Just because you and Prue dress like dried up spinsters doesn't mean I have to!"

"Phoebe…"

Phoebe fell back on her bed, a frightened little girl look on her face. "I know…I know…It's just…"

"You've got nothing to wear?" Piper walked to her sister's closet and pulled out a pair of jeans, a white top and a light red sweater. "Here, put that on…just pack jeans and a bathing suit, its hot in Sunnydale according to the weather report."

"Do you think they'll like me?" Phoebe asked in a tiny voice.

"Of course they will. You're a lovable girl. Now stop fidgeting and just use a little bit of make up…if this Joyce is anything like Grams…Or maybe our new Great Aunt…" Piper teased.

Phoebe winced. "Oh come on! We're way too old to be grounded!"

"That's what you said about getting spanked…" Piper grinned evilly.

"PIPER! Don't you dare mention that! Oh god, I don't think I'll ever live that down…"

"Nope…waay to good to ever forget. Can you sit all the way to Sunnydale by the way?" She winked at her younger sister as she made the old joke.

Phoebe threw a pillow at her sister who laughingly fled the room and returned to her own. With a bit of luck she'd get the three of them on the road in an hour or so…

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Danielle and Penelope were helping Joyce in the kitchen. Both were dressed in jeans and colourful tops and were bickering back and forth.

"I say you should let it grow out Danni…I mean look at Willow with that gorgeous hair…I'm sure men will flock to you…"

"Oh, and flocks of men have been doing you lots of good…"

"I may have had a few unfortunate relationships Danni, but that's hardly enough reason for you to stay a spinster…or even find some ease for your lonely some nights…"

"Look Penny…I know you Johnson's have this huge sex drive…"

Joyce cleared her throat and the older women both grinned widely. Joyce sighed.

"But I can do very well without the company of sweaty men in my life, thank you very much."

"Your loss Danni…You know after I get back and myself checked out by a cardiologist, I think I will see if I can't find a nice gentleman…"

Danielle sighed. "Penny…save yourself the trouble and get an electronic friend…"

Penny chuckled and Joyce sighed again. "You two had better remember that the children will be home soon and the 'eeews' and other screams will be all on your heads…"

The door opened and Simon came in, carrying a briefcase. Joyce eyed it. "You're late. Work tonight?"

"No love…I had my lawyers draw up a set of papers that will grant us immediate custody of Willow…I sent the reports on the Rosenbergs to Judge Menson…He's agreed to sign the preliminary custody documents and had them sent here…if Willow signs them we can go see them tonight…and then go see the judge next week to finalize the arrangement."

Joyce's shoulders drooped a bit. "Do you think she will sign?"

"Yes Joyce…and no, I don't think it's your Power at work…so stop being silly." He winked at her as he repeated Willow's words.

"Yes…well…Simon?" Joyce nervously fingered her apron, not looking at him.

"What is it love?"

"My parents will be here tonight…"

"Ah…" He actually looked a trifle uncomfortable. Then he asked in a hesitant voice. "Does your father own a shot gun?"

Danielle started laughing, Joyce and Penelope following suit.

The door opened and the teens came spilling in. "Hello mom! Willow ran through first, carrying her rose. "I need a vase! Another one! And I got a poem! See!" She took a book from her bag, carefully took the folded paper out and laid it on the island. Joyce, Penelope and Danielle immediately bent over to read it.

Joyce grinned. "See? I told _you_ that you were beautiful!"

Danielle hugged Willow who was beaming from ear to ear. "It's a lovely poem Willow."

Willow nodded happily. "And he gave me cheese!"

Joyce sighed. "Do you have any appetite left for dinner…at all?"

Willow looked slightly shamefaced. "It was only an eighth of Edam…"

Joyce sighed again in fond exasperation. "Oh, Willow…"

Danielle laughed at Willow's woebegone expression. Buffy and Amy sniggered. "Told you Wills! Don't mention the cheese!"

Simon grinned. "Someone to keep you in the cheese you've become accustomed to? I approve."

Willow groaned and Joyce threw a chunk of the cabbage stem at him which he dodged. "Get out of the kitchen the lot of you. It might be best just to put it with the one you already have Willow." She gestured at the rose.

"'Kay mom! Where's Dawn?" Buffy left the kitchen as she spoke and hollered back over her shoulder.

"Upstairs, doing homework." Joyce said it absently, watching with trepidation as Simon followed the children carrying the briefcase.

He put a hand on Willow's shoulder. "Could you come to the dining room after you've put your rose in a vase?"

Willow nodded a touch uncertainly and then rushed upstairs to put the rose in the same vase as the other. She came down again quickly, looking apprehensive, and went into the dining room where Simon was sitting with a set of papers spread out before him.

Willow's eyes widened. "Oh…the papers…"

"Yes…these will allow Joyce and me to take joint custody…with Danielle as additional guardian."

Willow sat down and started reading intently. After half an hour she looked up her eyes wide and her chin and lips trembling. "Will you come with me? To see them?"

"If you want me to…yes." Simon looked uncomfortable.

"I-I do…"

"Willow…it may not make it easier…I think it may make it worse…"

"I-I don't care…Can mom come too?" Willow pleaded.

"Willow…all of us will go with you if you want…but it might be better to limit the numbers a little."

"Nana too then?"

"We'll ask them, shall we?"

Willow nodded and with a trembling hand reached for the elegant platinum ballpoint pen Simon had placed at the top of the papers and signed and initialled all the pages.

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Willow rang the bell of the Rosenberg home. The door was opened by Ira. He made an unimpressive figure with his soft crown of red curls and his round, gentle face, dressed in an old black velveteen dressing gown over trousers and a dress shirt and shoes. He blinked at the four people standing on his doorstep.

Willow"? I thought you were upstairs. Your mother is rather upset with you tat you didn't make dinner tonight. It is family night you know…"

"Where is she then? And why are you wearing your Temple clothes?" Willow asked belligerently.

"Ummm…there was a request from the University…they had need of her expertise and she just came in for dinner. And I…there was an interesting discussion at Temple and I was going back…"

"I see. Willow's voice was cold. She held out an envelope. "Here."

Ira took the bulky thing and blinked. "What's this?"

"My official request to be fostered…based upon the emotional, psychological and physical neglect perpetrated upon me by my biological parents, Sheila and Ira Rosenberg. A court order declaring that Willow Danielle Rosenberg is to be taken from the custody of Ira and Sheila Rosenberg and placed in the care of the California State Child Social Services…a transfer of custody and authority from that agency to Joyce Summers, Simon Meier and Danielle Moritz. Thank you for providing me with the physical comforts of this house, even if your absences deprived me of parents, home and love."

Ira blinked again. Then his face hardened. "What if we fight this?"

"Then we go public." Simon's voice came from behind Willow. "Every time you left your five year old daughter alone…every time you let her fend for her self…every year you spent months away…all will be conveyed in excruciating detail to your eminent colleagues…the press will have a field day. And there will be nothing of your careers left to salvage."

Ira blinked. Then Danielle's voice spoke. "And I'll gladly add whatever I know Ira…"

A feral snarl came over Ira Rosenberg's face and his breath almost hissed from him. "You! You're dead! You evil, wicked, sinful witch! You blight upon this world! You're dead! You vile, corrupting excrescence upon the earth!"

Danielle's voice was cold and amused. "Well, yes…I always knew you didn't like me Ira…but you might want to inquire into Sheila's past a bit too…I at least never tried to conquer the world with magic…"

Willow had shrunk back from her father's tirade and looked at him with wide eyes as he went from gentle Talmudic scholar to raging fanatic. Joyce put her arms around the girl and spoke. "Tomorrow a moving van will come to collect Willow's things…you will be reimbursed for their value. Good evening Mr. Rosenberg."

Willow took out her house key and held it out. Ira held out his own in numb shock and the key was deposited in it, without a word. Willow turned from the home of her biological parents and left, her shoulders shaken by sobs and comforted by her new parents. Ira Rosenberg looked after her, his face a mask of anger and grief, his left hand clenching a thick envelope and Willow's key pressing deep into the flesh of his right. Drops of blood dripped unnoticed from between its fingers onto the ground.


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's note:**

**A question: the poem for Willow in the previous chapter, is that something that would make a teenage girl's heart beat faster? **

**Another question: Are people enjoying the Jenny/Giles developments?**

**A third question: Is there a place I can poll my readers who should end up with who?**

_Chapter 28__: Maternal revelations and mystical mishaps_

Joyce heard the noise of a car engine and swallowed nervously as it stopped. There was the sound of doors being opened and closed and then the footsteps walking up to the porch and the doorbell rang. Dawn's light running feet, the door thrown open…the happy childish voice. "Gran! Grandad! You're here!"

Her father's voice. "Hello Kibbles." Joyce grinned at the expected reaction.

"_Granddad_! Don't call me that!" Dawn squealed, mortified.

She heard Xander's voice just as she walked into the foyer. "Kibbles?"

"'Cause she used to lap her milk like a kitten. We got footage…" Buffy grinned evilly.

Her eldest daughter walked up to her grandparents and hugged and kissed them. James Ellis smiled a grandfatherly smile. "Hello Porky."

"GRANDDAD!" Buffy whined loudly and flushed.

Willow and Xander nearly choked with laughter. "Porky?"

Joyce went over to greet her parents. "It was her first word…the day Dad bought her Mr. Gordo."

She hugged her father. "Dad, good to see you."

Her mother got a shorter hug. "Mother."

Xander noticed the pained look on the older woman's face, watching mother and daughter closely while Willow was watching wide eyed while James Ellis was being swamped by his granddaughters.

James looked round. "So…you would be Willow and you Alexander…who prefers Xander?"

"Yes sir." Xander nodded. Willow managed a nod and an 'eep'.

James Ellis was a tall man for his age, about five foot eleven, with a thin, spare face with prominent cheek bones, an aquiline nose and sharp, piercing brown green-eyes. His hair had been dark but was now almost completely grey. He was clean shaven and had a firm chin and mouth.

Cecilia was five foot six or so, straight backed and proud, her long blonde hair twisted into an elaborate French braid. Her mouth was a straight line and her piercing sapphire eyes flanked her strong straight nose. Her chin could have been used to break rocks and her long, dark lashes covered the flashes of emotion that hovered in her eyes.

"I'm James Ellis…" He looked between the two teens who stood uncertainly before him. "We'll work up from sir to granddad soon I hope." He nodded encouragingly at Willow.

He turned to the unknown redhead who had risen with the children. "You have the look of Willow…"

"I'm Danielle Moritz…Willow's grandmother." She glanced repressively at Willow who was about to blurt out her relationship with Cecilia.

Instead Willow moved forward and shook hands with Cecilia. "Willow Rosenberg…I'm very pleased to meet you. Buffy says you make the best cornbread and that it tastes great with your pasta and I was wondering if you'd bake it tomorrow because we're making it for Prue, Piper and Phoebe, the pasta I mean, not the bread 'cause we don't know how to make that properly…"

Joyce stepped up and gently hugged the nearly breathless Willow. "Easy WIllow, take a breath."

Willow blushed. "Sorry mom…"

James and Cecilia both started slightly at the natural way the redhead called their daughter mom.

"Just nerves dear, it will be fine." She turned an eye toward her mother. "Won't it?"

James nodded, putting an arm around his wife. "Yes it will." He looked at Joyce and grinned. "So where's this not so young man of yours whose family chased ours of our land?"

Joyce sighed, rolling her eyes. "Upstairs…shaving…again."

The elder couple shared a look. "He's nervous?" James asked, obviously amused.

Joyce rolled her eyes. "Oh yes."

Willow giggled. "Mom had to tie his tie for him; he was shaking so bad…"

Joyce squeezed Willow's shoulder affectionately. "I took it _off _him; I'm not having him uncomfortable merely because of his ridiculous New York Society rules…" She looked up at a slight noise from the top of the stairs. Simon stood there looking more nervous than she'd ever seen him. He wore a pair of slacks, a dress shirt and…she sighed, walked up the stairs and took off his tie, pushed him back into the bedroom and very firmly said. "No jacket! No tie!"

Downstairs everybody laughed. Even Cecilia. Dawn hugged and kissed her grandmother and Xander shook hands while they could hear the soft scolding tones coming from upstairs.

"This is California, not New York. I don't care how they do it there, here we do _casual_. What are those things…this is not an official function Simon; I don't think they're going to disapprove of you because your socks are drooping. Take them off."

She dragged him down the stairs after she'd gotten him to take off the excess clothing.

"Mother, dad, this is Simon…casually dressed." James grinned widely at Simon's obvious discomfort.

To Joyce's surprise it was her mother who made the first move, stepping up to Simon and looking deep into his eyes.

"You look like your father…I hope you're a better man. It shouldn't be very hard."

Simon swallowed and Joyce gasped. James cleared his throat. "Well…I do hope there's some food left Joy…Your mother insisted we drive on through lunch and dinner…"

"Of course dad…this way." James followed her into the kitchen.

The door to the dining room opened and Penelope stepped through. "Pip…Cecilia." She gave her sister a raking look.

"Penny…You look very well." The look was returned with interest by Cecilia. She gestured at James. "My husband, James."

The two shook hands and James looked between the two women. "Yes…I can see the family resemblance…" Both women gave him a look and he shut up, though he grinned.

Penelope gestured politely at the dining room and Cecilia entered. The door closed. Cecilia Ellis turned to face her older sister's wrath. And was enveloped in a hug. "Dammit Pippa…we were so worried…I missed you so much…"

Cecilia returned the hug. "I-I had to…he came and looked me over…like a brood mare Pen, like…like…he offered mom and dad money…and he..."

"Meier." Penelope grated out the name. "He threatened them? Us? You?"

"Yes. He wanted to…"

"Breed a better son…I know…Why not me?"

"He wanted someone younger…pliable…better able to take _training_…" Cecilia's voice still trembled at the memory. Penelope shuddered with her.

"You should've told me…I'd have helped you run…Or killed the son of a bitch…"

"Oh Pen…I-I didn't want any of you to get hurt too."

Penelope stiffened. "He got you…the bastard got you…"

"Penny…I was so scared… afterwards…he told me…the other things he wanted to do to me…How he'd tame me…educate me to be a _proper_ wife for him…"

Penelope felt the terrible rage rising within her. "What about freezing him?"

"He walked right through it…waved his hand…he laughed…He found it amusing…He called me a feisty little thing…"

"Bastard…" Her eyes widened. "Oh…and then Joyce started dating Simon…"

"I thought he was after her for the same reason…" Cecilia shivered.

"He isn't like his father..."

"I know…I saw the bond…Penelope…what happened to yours?"

"My what?" Penelope froze.

"Your soul bond…it isn't just broken…it's frayed and bleeding…An old festering wound…"

"Oh...Allen…my wonderful Allen…" Penelope started to cry.

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"So…Ordinarily I'd ask about your prospects…and intentions…but that seems a bit redundant." James Ellis looked at the more than a little nervous man next to him at the kitchen island with amusement. "You haven't done anything like this before have you?"

"Talk to the parents of the woman I'm living with? No…that is an entirely novel situation for me." He took a deep breath. "As to your first question…I intend to marry Joyce. If and when she'll have me. My prospects for that…you'd have to ask Joyce." He glanced blandly at the older man but James could see the nervous fidgeting of his right hand's fingers with the large signet ring on his left hand.

"Have you asked her yet?"

Simon opened his mouth and then closed it, looking thoughtful. "Actually…no. I've merely strongly implied I want to marry her…"

"Then get to it. Make it nice and romantic. Woo her. More than a little. Go down on one knee. No matter what a woman says, they all want romance…even my Cecilia." He chuckled wryly. He looked around the kitchen with keen interest. "I noticed you've been doing some work around here…"

"Yes…the house was a bit too small for the increasing size of the family."

"Care to show me around?"

"Of course sir…Why don't we start with the basement." He walked to the door and called out. "Love? I'm going to show your father the alterations to the house…"

There was laughter and some muttered grumbling. "Willow, Dawn, Buffy, mom…I think I won this bet…" Xander's voice was sly. "Now what was it again we bet? Oh yes…this week's chores from the three of you…"

James joined Simon at the kitchen door and whispered a question, "This happen often?"

"All the time…I wonder what he bet Joyce…"

"I'm not letting you paint your bedroom black Xander, it's far too depressing…but I will discuss the possibility of you buying a car with your earnings." Joyce smiled indulgently.

Xander whooped and hugged her fiercely "Thanks mom!"

Joyce looked on with quiet amusement as her lover and her father bonded over the alterations to her house. James had been especially impressed by the raising of the garage roof and the creation of Willow's bedroom as well as the passage Arch, though the basement renovation and Dawn's treehouse carried his seal of approval as well. She listened to their conversation on the porch as she idly prepared a tray of finger foods. James had put away a large cold meat sandwich while looking at the changes. Cecilia had eaten a smaller one while speaking with Cecilia. Danielle was minding the children in the living room. Which primarily meant being the first line of defence for the cheese cloche and the pastry bin.

"You seem to have settled in…"

"Yes sir."

"And yet I know for a fact you own a large amount of property in New York."

"Nothing holds as much interest to me as this house and its inhabitants."

"Not even Hell Gate?"

Simon froze. "It's contained." He finally said.

"My people spent dozens of generations protecting it…"

"Siwanoy?" He named the Native American tribe that had once lived on the shores of the dangerous waterway.

"Yes."

"My family spent two centuries finding a way to close it permanently. We finally managed it three years ago, a combined casting of five Covens"

This time it was her father's turn to stiffen. "Five covens…how did you manage that? And the blasting? Your family planned that?"

"It took some doing to get the wardings in I believe…sea rituals are never easy. The blasting was a temporary measure…its difficult to open a Hellmouth if it's buried under tons of rock. It being underwater helped too."

"I don't know if I should be insulted, impressed or worried…"

Joyce had frozen when her father had mentioned Hell gates. She stepped outside and looked at him with wide eyes and a disbelieving stare. "You knew…about magic…all this time…"

James looked at her aghast. "You mean you didn't?" He strode through the kitchen into the foyer and knocked on the dining room door. The soft voices inside stopped. Penelope called out. "Yes?"

James opened the door and looked in. "Penelope? Would you excuse us for a moment? I need to talk to Cecilia…rather urgently." Penelope nodded, rose and left. James entered, closing the door.

"You never told Joyce about magic. About her heritage." His voice was calm and collected his stance careful and relaxed. Cecilia's eyes widened and she swallowed fearfully.

"Yes. I-I wanted to protect her…after that Shaszat demon came after Arlene…I wanted her to stay clear of it."

"What if her children had magic? Her grand children? What if Buffy or Dawn had not been latent?"

He was calm and reasonable and Cecilia was watching him with something akin to fear in her eyes."

"Jim…" Cecilia gave him a pleading look.

"You will talk to Joyce. Now. You will apologize, explain your reasoning, by all means, but you _will_ apologize."

"Y-yes James…" Cecilia nodded meekly.

"And I also suggest you have a good long _listen_…"

"W-what do you mean?"

"Just what I said…you listen…you let her talk…and for the Great Spirit's sake Cecilia…unless you want to lose her forever, don't _judge_ her."

"Lose? Judge? I never…" *He invoked the great Spirit? Oh goddess…he only does that when he's really worried.*

"You don't even notice..." James looked at her with sad eyes. "You've been judging her since the day she was born…she was never good enough…and now…she's only a step away from telling you to get out of her life…"

Cecilia gasped. "Y-you think she meant that?"

"About doing without your grandchildren for a year? Yes. Or longer…like forever."

Cecilia sat in silence, looking at the table. When she finally spoke it was in a very small voice. "Jim…what if I mess this up…"

"You'd better not…that's all I can say." He left the room and gently pushed Joyce inside. "Sit. Talk." He glanced at his wife. "You listen. After you apologize." Cecilia nodded. James closed the door. Joyce sat down opposite her mother.

Cecilia took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before…I so desperately wanted you to have a normal life…one without the fear of the supernatural, without warlocks and demons coming by and trying to kill you…I was so happy when you were born latent…I just wanted you to be normal…Like I never could be…"

"Arlene and Charlotte? Dad? Why didn't they ever mention it?"

"I-I told them you didn't want to talk about it… that you felt left out, not good enough…Uncomfortable about it…"

"All those outings with Charlotte and Arlene? Just the three of you?"

"I was explaining about magic and witchcraft…Teaching them to b-brew few potions…"

"I see…You should have told me."

"Yes. I'm sorry you felt left out…"

Joyce rose and stepped around the table, bending over, bringing her face close to her mother's. "I don't _fucking_ care about being left out! I care that because you didn't tell me my daughter is terrified she'll be sent back to Overton…because I didn't believe her when she told me about vampires being real…or being the Slayer….that…I'll never _ever_ forgive you for. I sent my little girl to an institution…because _you_ wanted to live a normal life through _me_."

Cecilia opened her mouth to retort and closed it, her eyes going wide. "B-Buffy's the S-Slayer?"

"Yes…she killed a very powerful vampire master called Lothos and his minions…among other things by burning down Hemery High school gym. And thanks to you instead of my support…she got sent to an institution!"

"I'm s-sorry…"

"Well isn't that just great? You're sorry…" Joyce's sarcasm was nearly tangible. "And I suppose you're sorry as well that you never told me you loved me until I told you I was dating Simon? Or that you never ever told me I did anything right? Or when I came to you after I was nearly raped and you told me that I was a wanton whorish slut? Are you sorry for that as well? Or when you called me to tell me you'd told the University that my major had been changed from Art history to Physics, because I was wasting my time and talent with such a ridiculous choice? Are you sorry for that too?" Her voice rose ever higher in her anger. "Are you sorry for every time you messed with my life? Tried to force me to do, to be, whatever _you_ wanted? That _nothing_ I _ever _did was good enough?" Her chest heaved. "Are you sorry for all that?"

Cecilia was crying in jagged sobs. Joyce nodded to herself. "I thought not." She rose from her bowed position but was stopped by her mother's hand clasping her own.

"Y-yes…I am…b-but…"

"But what _mother_?"

"I-I never realized…And now it's too late…you'll never f-forgive me…All the horrible things I did…I've lost you…all I wanted was for you to be happy and all I've done is drive you away…"

Joyce looked at the hand holding hers tightly as if her mother was afraid that this was the last time she'd ever get to touch her. She looked up. Cecilia's eyes were still filled with tears and she looked down.

"Please…Don't blame your father…he tried to make me see before…I never wanted to…never did."

"I don't…I think he just got tired for apologizing for you."

"Joyce…I _am_ sorry…so very, very sorry…"

"You'll apologize to Buffy."

"Yes. I will." Cecilia took a deep breath. "I-I can still see them? The children" She sounded hopeful.

"Yes…"

"Can I try and teach them to bake proper cornbread? None of you three ever managed…"

Joyce's mouth quirked. "I wish you luck. And I fear that the only one who shows skill at cooking is Amy…who's not actually a foster daughter…but the sort of daughter of Catherine McGonagall and Pulchritudia Black…"

Cecilia rose up like a wrathful storm, eyes blazing. "_Black_! Did she go near the children? I'll kill her!"

Joyce looked amused. "Well…Buffy, Amy and Buffy's watcher took care of her…and the original Catherine Madison…who made Pulchritudia want to become a champion cheerleader…"

Cecilia gawped, her mouth open like fish. And then she started to giggle. "Sounds like there are some stories to tell…"

Joyce smiled a bit sadly. "Why didn't you react like that…when I…"

"Because I was stupid and afraid…and I should have known better…I know what it feels like after all…Joyce…it may take me a while before I can…look at Simon fairly…" Cecilia looked at her daughter pleadingly and Joyce sat down.

"That's why you ran away…Mother…Mom…did he…"

Cecilia looked down at the table and nodded slightly. "He was…he wanted…a son."

"Simon was always a disappointment to him…" Joyce shivered and then hugged her mother. Cecilia returned it gratefully.

"I'm sorry Joyce…I promise I'll do my best." Cecilia smiled grimly. "But…the men who hurt you…there are a few advantages to having a witch for a mother…I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before…"

"What did you do?" Joyce leaned forward eagerly.

"Boils…in certain places."

"Wow…when did they stop?"

Cecilia raised an eyebrow. "Stop? They get them every year…"

Joyce gasped. "We can do that?"

"Well I can…I don't know if your power will allow it…" She looked thoughtful. "The Mother power seems to be primarily aimed at helping people…making them become closer, more loving. More protective, less punitive. So it might block you from using spells like the Curse of Boils."

Joyce nodded. "I see…well I can't say I'm entirely sorry…"

Cecilia smiled wanly. "Believe me honey…So am I."

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Dawn had been sleeping on the couch for more than three hours, her head pillowed in Willow's lap as the older girl napped, the book she had been reading earlier lying closed on the end table. Buffy had crawled up on the opposite couch and was sleeping as well, her head on Joyce's shoulder. Joyce on her part had crawled and huddled into her father who's other shoulder was being used by Xander. Cecilia, Penelope and Danielle were sitting in the armchairs and watching the scene with amused and tender faces. Simon was making tea.

The sound of a car pulling up in front of the house and then the three thumps of doors being opened and then closed. Buffy stirred at the noise but the others all slept on peacefully.

Penelope looked at the clock and grinned. "Right on time…"

Danielle gave her a look. "It's one thirty. They said eleven…"

"Ah…but I know my granddaughters…with the exception of Piper, when she's not getting ready for a date, they're unable to ever be on time. Prue and Phoebe together…" She gestured at the futility of trying to get them to leave on time.

Danielle sighed. "Well I hope they'll understand we won't make it much later…"

Penelope rose and grinned. "They'd better. Now I've got beauty again I intend to keep it. I need my sleep!"

Penelope looked at the sleepers, then went to open the door. She grinned even more widely as she saw her three granddaughters unloading a car. And then she saw the door of the house opposite open and three men emerge, with guns and stakes and saw the vampires circling towards three young women. She gasped and gestured sharply, drawing the attention of the two other witches, who rose immediately, joining her at the door.

Penelope's curt gesture had sent three vampires flying but three more still approached. Buffy suddenly started awake and sprang into action, hastening to the door, stumbling over legs and feet, reaching up to the hat shelf and grabbing the two stakes artfully stashed there. She was out of the door while her cousins were still gasping in bewilderment at the fanged things that attacked them.

Buffy thundered into the vampires' ranks, staking one with ease as the demon unexpectedly faced a predator instead of prey. Cecilia stepped forward and raised her hands, freezing the entire vampire group. Buffy very slowly turned round, as did the dark haired girls by the car. Four pairs of eyes were very wide.

Cecilia raised an eyebrow. "Do kindly stake them Buffy…this is harder than it looks…"

Buffy grinned and swiftly moved from vamp to vamp, killing the remaining five without trouble. The three girls by the car huddled, faces fearful and shocked.

The bodyguards checked the perimeter and returned to their base. The other sleepers had been awakened by the noise or Buffy's sudden movement had and joined those on the porch. Penelope went outside and gathered in her frightened granddaughters.

Prue was the first to find her voice. "W-what happened?"

"Vampires attacked you dears…and I used my magic and your great aunt Cecilia hers to stop them. And Buffy was kind enough to actually stake them, which I greatly appreciate, the things always make me sneeze and their dust is terribly difficult to get out of clothes."

"Vampires?" Phoebe managed to squeak the word just as Joyce gently dragged her inside.

"Yes dear…vampires. Don't worry, we'll tell you how to deal with them."

Prue looked around, more than a little wide eyed. "B-but where did they come from?"

"Vampires?" Phoebe squeaked again.

Piper gave her grandmother a look. "And since when can you do magic? And if Aunt Cecilia has it too…do we have it?"

"Vampires?" Phoebe whispered.

Joyce gently put an arm around the youngest Halliwell. "Yes dear…Vampires."

Penelope grimaced. "Ah…can we go sit down while we talk about that?"

Prue and Piper exchanged glances. "That might be wise."

Dawn yawned and then went and hugged Phoebe who was still standing looking shocked and uncertain. "Hi. I'm Dawn. I know you're a cousin…but which one?"

Phoebe blinked down at the little girl who was hugging her so trustingly. "Phoebe…Phoebe Halliwell."

"'S cool…that means you get to bunk with me. The house is a bit full, what with you three and Gran and Granddad and Nana and Aunt Penny…"

There were snorts of laughter from all three new arrivals. "Aunt _Penny_?"

"Yeah, 'cause great aunt Penelope makes her feel old." Dawn said wisely, before yawning again.

Penelope moved to stand behind Dawn, putting her hands on the girl's shoulders. "It does indeed."

Phoebe gasped as she saw her grandmother clearly. "Grams! You're…_young_!"

Penelope and Danielle started to giggle and Willow blushed before stammering. "T-they prefer younger…"

Joyce smiled and looked at her youngest who moved on to hug Prue and Piper. Both returned the gesture with wide smiles. Then she stepped in. "Dawn…time for bed…"

Dawn was about to protest when she yawned enormously again. Phoebe yawned as well, then stammered. "Oh, I'm sorry…"

Joyce gave her a comforting smile. "Don't worry about it dear…we'll just bed you down as well."

"B-but…" Dawn and Phoebe yawned in unison and then glared in unison at Joyce. "We want to stay up!" The two family youngest looked at each other, then at Joyce and then flushed bright red.

Piper grinned. "Well Phoebe…looks like all the sleeping you did on the back seat did not help…"

Prue yawned. Then Willow. Then Piper herself. Buffy was manfully trying to keep her eyes open.

Danielle grinned at Penelope and Cecilia. "Get to bed you lot…none of us are awake enough for serious discussion. It's been a long day."

The teens looked at Joyce who lifted an eyebrow and looked at her watch. "Well it looks like its long past your bedtime…"

Sighing they said goodnight and left upstairs. Joyce looked at the swaying Phoebe. "Did you manage to sleep at all while your grandmother was away dear?"

Phoebe shot her a startled look before shaking her head. "No ma'am."

"Joyce. My name is Joyce. To bed with you young lady." She gave Penelope a stern look and the older witch looked contrite.

"Oh, Phoebe…C'mon, I'll take you to Dawn's room."

Danielle took the hand of a startled Piper. "You're in with Willow, I'll take you there."

Penelope looked at Prue who hesitated and then yawned. She shrugged and picked up her bag. "That means I'm with Buffy?"

"Yes it does. Just follow Joyce."

Phoebe was rather surprised when her grandmother, Dawn's grandmother, Mrs. Moritz and Joyce all came to bid Dawn goodnight and tuck her in. And she was even more surprised when she got the same attention. And that it did not feel at all unnatural or strange or childish. She slept like a baby.

Prue was amazed that Buffy allowed her mother to tuck her in. But when Grams came in and sat on Prue's camp bed and kissed her forehead and tucked the blankets around her, it didn't feel childish. It felt safe and comfortable and warm. The dangers and revelations should have had her wide awake for hours despite her tiredness, yet she fell asleep almost immediately and did not wake until morning.

Piper looked with amazement as a procession of older women came to tuck in Willow, and felt slightly embarrassed at Grams doing the same to her. And yet envious that the other ladies didn't…and she felt silly about that. She was still pondering it when she fell into a deep restful sleep.

James Ellis was waiting for his wife in the largest of the basement guestrooms, dressed in PJ's and ready for bed. Cecilia changed into her long nightshirt and then sat on the bed while he brushed her hair.

"Well?"

"I listened…I've been an idiot."

James considered his answer. "Yes. Being proud of your daughter is one thing…showing pride in the proper way…that is rather more difficult."

"I never told her I loved her?"

"You did…but not after she was fourteen or so…and that is the age when you relly should have."

"I messed up pretty badly…"

He considered again. "Yes…luckily you had a brave courageous husband to pick up the pieces." He waggled his eyebrows. She snorted in sad amusement.

"Great…my daughters hate me and my husband thinks its funny…"

"They don't hate you…and don't forget that you were always the one who punished and set rules…I was the one who played and rewarded…but you could've rewarded too…"

"What do I do now?" Cecilia sounded anxious.

"Since they no longer need your punishment or rules…just love them."

"What if they won't let me?"

"I'm not saying it will be easy love…but you can begin by telling them the whole truth."

"The whole truth? Hello dears, I'm your mother…I was raped by Joyce's boyfriend's father when I was fourteen…I'm really screwed up? Please forgive me and let me try and be a mother to you?" She glared at him. "That will go over well!"

"You were a good mother love…strict, yes…and you could've shown a bit more how much you loved them…but did you or did you not bring the Books to show Penelope?"

Cecilia grinned. "Yes…we haven't gotten round to them yet."

"Once they see you glowing with pride and love…then they'll understand…just let them see the real you…the one only I get to see…just…be yourself love."

"I'm scared…"

"Yes dear…but the truth will help…and make it the _whole_ truth."

Cecilia who'd relaxed into her husband's ministrations, stiffened. "W-what more is there to tell?"

James pulled her into his chest and sighed. "The reason why you always cry on the third of March?"

Cecilia started and tried to get away. James kissed her hair soothingly. "Cecilia…Cece…I've know for years…I don't love you less…I know you've looked…let Simon help you…he has people experienced in that sort of thing. Just…tell the girls."

Cecilia started sobbing. "Oh…and what do I tell them? I'm sorry dears…you've got an older sister…remember that nice man who raped me? He was successful in his plans…And then I left her on the steps of a police station…and I don't know what happened to her and that has screwed me up even worse than getting raped?"

"Yes…they're amazingly understanding women…just tell them and they'll help you through it."

"And then what? Find her? Play happy families? Imagine the past forty-two years did not happen?"

"I'd let Simon handle that end…he does have a vested interest…she is his sister after all…"

Cecilia turned in James' arms, her eyes wide with shock. "Oh dear lord…I never even considered that…"

James smiled sadly. "You should love…I'm sure he'll be very interested to know."


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's note:**

**Full disclaimer at the end.**

_Chapter 29: __Watched awakenings and boring history_

Saturday dawned bright and clear. Cecilia was up before anyone else and started preparing breakfast, pressing oranges. She heard a giggle on the stairs from the first floor and a whispered "Simon!" and wondered if she should withdraw.

Joyce came in first, while Simon left through the front door. Joyce was dressed in a white sundress, and Cecilia noted in passing that Simon wore white slacks and a blue shirt.

"Mother." Joyce eyed her mother and Cecilia returned her gaze calmly.

"Joy, good morning. Do you know when Charlotte will be here?"

"I think they wanted to leave early…but around eleven?"

"Very good…we'll have nice long day."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Not really…I had a lot to think about. A lot of worries." Cecilia squeezed another orange.

"I see…"

"There are some things I need to tell you and your sisters…I'd like to wait until Arlene could be there as well…but I've decided I can't…I'll tell you and Lolly first…call Arlene when…Monday…after her maneuvers."

"Very well mother."

"Joy…I know you're very angry…I know I don't deserve it yet…but…I really don't mind being called mom…" She looked down at her hands as she cut another orange.

Joyce's mouth quirked. She eyed the huge pitchers of orange juice. She'd inherited her habits of kitchen work when she was nervous from her mother apparently. "I'll consider it…mom." She was surprised at seeing the relief and joy in her mother's face.

"I'm so sorry Joy…I'll be saying that a lot…I hope you don't mind…"

"I can live with it…"

"You'll also have to live with having a mother two years younger than she ever admitted to…"

Joyce blinked. "I…hadn't realized that yet."

Cecilia smiled. "Well that will be one advantage of this…"

"You mean you'll act your age?" James Ellis came up the stairs and into the kitchen. He looked at his wife and daughter, lightly kissed Joyce's cheek and then grinned wickedly at Cecilia who eyed him warily.

"Jim…"

"I'm just reminded of something that Penny and Danni mentioned…" He suddenly backed her up against the fridge and kissed her, passionately. Joyce fell back from the island, wide eyed.

Cecilia was stiff with surprise at first but after some hesitation seemed to get into the kiss. Joyce gaped and barely noticed when Penelope came in, followed by Danielle.

"Dear me…" Penelope grinned.

Cecilia put a leg around James' waist pulling him closer and Joyce started spluttering and getting red in the face.

Penelope cleared her throat. "CECE! JIM!"

James and Cecilia started apart, both flushing. "I'm sorry Cecilia…I got carried away…"

Penelope eyed Joyce thoughtfully…"Joyce…have you been worried about your mother and father…staying together?"

Joyce nodded. "A bit…I was afraid…all this…" She gestured vaguely.

"I see…" Penelope grinned.

James eyed the still furiously blushing and somewhat mussed Cecilia. Then he grinned broadly. "I don't suppose I can convince you that we're on the brink of divorce?"

"DAD!" "JIM!" Mother and daughter glared at him and crossed their arms in identical fashion. Penelope and Danielle laughed. James merely looked smug.

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Piper woke feeling both rested and watched. When she opened her eyes a redhead of fifteen or sixteen sat on the bed tailor fashion, elbows on her knees, chin resting on her hands looking at her.

"Good morning Willow."

"Good morning Piper."

"If you don't mind me asking…what's your relationship to Joyce?"

"Foster daughter…and cousin." The red head leaned forward conspiratorially. "Don't tell Nana I told you…but she did the naughty one drunken night with your Great Uncle Gordon…hence my mom." Willow blushed slightly as she spoke.

Piper giggled. "Oh lord…Old people sex…"

Willow giggled too. "Well…young people sex a long time ago…"

"Sooo…How long have you been here?"

"Since Mom and Buffy moved here from LA…beginning of the school year…I got fostered here officially yesterday."

Piper blinked. "Woah…that's…"

Willow smiled wanly. "Fresh…yeah."

Piper rose from her camp bed and sat by the younger girl. "Well...I don't know why you're here…but it sure looks like they love you." She blinked at the enormous smile that lit up the redhead's face.

"Yeah…they do."

Piper rose, scratching her side between her bottoms and top and grinned. "So…where's the toilet in this here burg?"

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Phoebe umphed as something landed on top of her. A set of curious blue eyes in a curious little face gazed at her. "Heya."

"Hey. I'm Dawn. In case you forgot."

"I didn't. I'm Esmeralda."

"No you're not…You're Phoebe."

"See? It's not _that_ difficult to remember a name even over night…"

Dawn stuck out her tongue. Phoebe wriggled. "Would you mind getting off me? I need to go to the bathroom."

"Sure." Dawn got up, Phoebe did as well. Then she stared at a large photo on the wall. "Hey cool, you've got that picture of Baryshnikov and the little girl, I've got that too…" She looked closer and then swallowed, looked at Dawn and then the photo. Dawn grinned.

"Muh…" Phoebe pointed at the photo.

"Yeah…that's me. Cool no?"

"Muh…"

"Y'okay….why don't I take you to the bathroom and push you under the shower."

"Muh…"

"This way Phoebe…"

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Prue woke up feeling incredibly rested and stretched her arms above her head. As she opened her eyes she saw a mussed blonde head look at her, its green-blue eyes mustering her thoughtfully.

"Well…we weren't really introduced yesterday…I'm Buffy."

"Prue. Prudence. " She grimaced. "Both our parents' hated us?"

"I swear mine were high on drugs." Buffy nodded her agreement as to the unfairness of naming.

"So…those things last night?"

"Vampires…yeah."

"And what Grams did?"

"Magic…yeah. My Gran doing it was a surprise too…"

"Your Gran is my great aunt…" Prue looked around the room and saw the picture on the dresser. "Hey! You skate?"

Buffy shook her head. "Used ta…had to give it up…"

"Injuries?"

"I became the Slayer." The words were softly spoken and Prue felt that there was far more behind the simple words than just giving up skating.

"Oh…so can you tell me about magic?"

"Not really…You'd better ask Simon…or Willow. He's training her to be a witch. Or Amy, she's a friend, he's training her too…Or Giles…He's my Watcher, but he's more into the whole Slayer history thingy."

"Ah…ummm…those guys who ran to help us?"

"Bodyguards. Simon's like really rich."

Prue blinked. "Oh…how rich?"

"Ummm…I don't exactly know…but mom is really, really excited, like over the moon excited about his art collection. He owns Rembrandts and stuff."

Prue barely held in a squeal. "Oh my God…that's so awesome!"

Buffy grinned and rolled her eyes. "Yep…you're related to mom….want to flip for who gets the shower first? Or shall we say age before beauty."

Prue's eyes narrowed in mock outrage. "Why you…" She jumped on the bed, ready to tickle Buffy into submission. Buffy calmly intercepted her attack, pinned Prue's arms over her head with one hand and administered a tickle of her own to Prue's lower ribs. Prue squealed and tried to get away. Buffy relentlessly continued. Prue continued squealing.

The door opened and Dawn and Phoebe looked in. Dawn grinned up at her cousin. "See…I told you it wasn't Buffy squealing…She sounds like a piglet." Buffy glared at her youngest sister.

Phoebe nodded at Dawn. "Yup…you were right…Prue sounds more like a whole hog…So Buffy…is there room for more on that bed?" She grinned evilly at Prue. 

Prue glared. "Phoebe…don't you dare!"

Buffy reached into the older girl's side and Prue wiggled and squealed again. Buffy looked at Phoebe with unholy glee in her eyes.

"Plenty of room." Phoebe grinned and approached the bed, fingers wriggling. Prue started moaning even before her youngest sister got there.

Willow and Piper heard the pleas for mercy as they stepped into the arch passage. Piper cocked her head. "That sounds like Prue…" She grinned. "Someone is tickling Prue!" She hurried off, Willow following in confusion. Piper entered Buffy's bedroom at a run.

Prue saw her entry and tried to crawl up the bed. "Piper! No! No! Buffy! Please! PLEASE!"

Piper chuckled wickedly. "It is time for vengeance Prudence Victoria!"

Phoebe made room and laughed. "Watch the expert at work guys!"

Prue desperately tried to escape Buffy's hold, but Willow and Dawn helped hold her down.

Prue started shuddering as Piper found every ticklish spot she'd discovered in the years living with her sister.

"PIPER!EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! NOOOOOOO!"

Penelope stood at the bottom of the stairs with a huge smile on her face. She carefully wiped a tear out of her eye. Cecilia stood next to her. "They don't get along very well?"

"Prue and Phoebe…they haven't acted like this in years…"

"They were afraid they'd lost you…Penny…you look…good…young."

"Let's just say I'm vastly improved…Simon used a Wizard's Node…the local spirits apparently thought I needed a bit of help…Danielle looks even better. I understand exactly what Gordon saw in her looking at her and Willow."

"Ah…Gordon?" Cecilia's voice was hesitant and frightened.

Penelope smiled sadly. "He died in '71…killing the Witch Hunter."

"Gordon killed the Witch Hunter?" Cecilia looked astonished. "Goddess…"

"He was protecting his daughter…Sheila Moritz…"

Cecilia winced. "Ouch…"

"Yes…not a good thing for the first Meier-Johnson lineage crossing…" Cecilia winced again.

"So…how do we tell the girls?"

"Well…Willow and Amy, that's Amy McGonagall, are being trained by Simon…So I thought I'd let him tell the whole thing. Start at the Great Divide and work from there…or something…"

Cecilia giggled at another huge giggling scream of "PIPER! NOOOOOOO!" from upstairs. "Or something…Penny…I'm ever so glad to see you again." She gave Penelope a hug and then suddenly tickled her older sister in the sides. Penelope squealed, much like Prue.

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When the younger generation finally made it downstairs, washed and dressed Prue glared at all of the others. "That was so unfair! All of you picked on me just because I'm the oldest!"

"And the bossiest." Phoebe stuck out her tongue.

"And the crankiest," Piper chimed in.

"And the noisiest…I'm certain you hit a high C up there." Willow grinned.

"You're very pretty though. "Dawn said consolingly

"But I'd see if you can have something done about the snoring." Buffy added evilly.

Prue had been spluttering at each remark but the last one got her attention. "I DO NOT SNORE!"

Joyce voice came out of the kitchen. "Buffy Anne are you teasing your sawmill, err I mean cousin?"

Prue huffed and entered the kitchen. Penny was grinning widely and winked at her eldest grand daughter who grinned back a little sheepishly.

"They got you good Prue…"

"Yeah…but it took all of them together!"

Buffy stepped behind her. "Did it now?" She said sweetly, reaching for Prue's hands.

Prue gulped and raised her hands in defeat.. "C-can I just say Uncle now?"

Buffy picked up a bagel, grinning. "Yeah, I'm hungry anyway."

"Sounded like some expert tickling…" Penelope looked at the giggling cousins. Prue glared at her but it was obvious her heart was not in it as her mouth kept twitching.

"Naaahh. She avoided the real expert." Dawn stated blandly.

"Oh? Who's the real expert then?" Penelope eyed Joyce who grinned but shook her head..

Xander had emerged from the basement to stand behind Prue and placed two fingers at her lowest ribs and flicked lightly. Prue squealed. Xander smirked.

Dawn pointed her thumb at him. "Right there."

Prue glared at Xander who waggled his eyebrows. "Just you wait Xander…just you wait…"

Xander sketched a bow. "For you, fair Cousin Prudence, an eternity."

To her great embarrassment Prue blushed.

Piper grinned and spread jam on her croissant. "So…magic?"

Penelope and Danielle looked at Simon who absently prevented Willow from grabbing a fist sized hunk of cheddar and handed her a bowl of cut fruit and yoghurt instead. Willow pouted.

"If you don't mind…I'll wait until my other apprentice gets here." He smiled at them. Which gives you some actual talking time…

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Penelope nervously sat at the table, her three granddaughters facing her. "Well…lets get this over with…You three are very powerful witches. When you were very young I had to bind your powers and remove your memories of them, Prue and Piper…because a powerful enemy was out to kill you…more than one really." She sighed. "I'm going to tell you something you won't like…the three of you may be a group of witches whose birth was foretold centuries ago called the Charmed Ones. Prophesied to do great good, vanquish great evil."

Prue smirked. "Cool."

"Your mother was a witch too Prue…and she died performing her duties. And she could've died much earlier if she hadn't had help." Penelope said sharply. Prue gulped. Penelope reached across the table and took her oldest granddaughter's hand comfortingly.

"It's not a very safe thing to do, being an instruments of the Powers that Be…The Charmed Ones are supposed to make a difference to the Battle in a way nobody is quite sure off…But the Charmed Ones' great power rests upon their ability to work together…" She looked at the three young women. "Which is not a talent the three of you have been showing a lot lately…"

Prue and Phoebe glared at each other. "It's not my fault! She started it!" They spoke in near unison and Piper and Penelope exchanged glances.

"There…you see…that's what I mean…I-I had been planning to strip you of your powers, despite the risks…to keep you safe. Because without cooperating…and with your powers…you'd all very soon be dead. Which I'm not willing to risk."

The three young women grew very pale and looked at each other. Prue looked at Piper who shrugged, Phoebe looked uncertain. "We…we need to think about this…"

"Yes…you should consider yourselves lucky…you are getting a chance to choose. Buffy was Chosen for her task against her will or knowledge. Now…" She rose. "I'm going to get Cece to show me those embarrassing baby pictures of Joyce that she lugged along…"

The three younger Halliwell's grinned. "That should be fun…we can see some of Buffy's too…And Dawn's."

"Yes…Remind me to bring your albums next time I go here…" Penelope said blandly.

Prue made a strangled little noise. Piper groaned. Phoebe sighed mournfully.

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There was the sound of a car in the road and Dawn ran to the door, followed by Buffy. Willow and Xander followed more sedately. But only slightly. Joyce smiled and followed.

Prue, Piper and Phoebe stood in front of the window and saw Dawn jump into Celia's arms, Buffy hug Charlotte and Willow and Xander being affectionately greeted by Harry.

Piper sighed. "They look…close."

"Yeah." Piper sighed too. "Think we'll ever really fit in?" She sounded wistful.

Joyce, standing in the door turned and grinned. "Of course you will. C'mon I'm sure they're very eager to meet you." She gestured imperatively and the three girls followed with some hesitation.

Celia looked up from hugging Buffy and saw the three young women. "Hey…I'm Celia." She let go and went over to hug the three of order of age. Charlotte followed quickly. She blinked when her own mother, standing at the end of the line, hugged her and then Joyce as well.

"I love you both so much…"

Charlotte gave her mother an astonished look. "M-mom? Are you alright?"

"No dear…I haven't been possessed by anything demonic…I've just been show a few of the nastier facts about my life…" She put a hand to Charlotte's face and then Joyce's. "It's hard for me to remember that you're both grown…no longer my babies…I've tried to control you for far too long…I'm so sorry…"

Charlotte's jaw dropped and she looked at Joyce who shrugged. Charlotte let fall a heartfelt "Holy shit."

Cecilia raised an eyebrow. "My new found laissez faire attitude does not extend to swearing dear…"

Charlotte blushed. Cecilia grinned at Penelope. "Now this is my older sister Penny…aunt Penny…meet your youngest niece, Charlotte."

Charlotte looked at the woman before her with slight trepidation. "Ummm…"

"Oh stop being scared dear." Penelope dragged the woman into a hug and then Celia. "Now…Cecilia brought a number of huge books…and she promises me they're chock full of the cutest pictures ever…Double the fun with twins…"

Joyce and Charlotte winced.

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Joyce groaned as her mother dug out the third huge tome of photographs and drawings collectively known as The Books. She'd made them for all three of her daughters but never had there been such attention riveted upon them.

All the women had coed at her baby pictures…even her daughters…admittedly she and Lolly had been cute…but still…she felt it was excessive. So did Charlotte, who had, due to her more outgoing and tomboyish nature, rather more embarrassing pictures taken of her.

And yet… she'd never seen her mother so…relaxed. And to her intense surprise she knew the story behind every picture, knew every part Joyce, not just Charlotte had played in every school play, from third sheep to second shepherd. Every line she'd hesitantly uttered seemed engraved upon her mother's mind. Every report card was carefully preserved in an envelope pasted to a page.

She'd never realized just how proud Cecilia was of her until she heard her mother talk to her sister about the things she'd done. If this was her power at work…she could live with being a Mother.

Charlotte had noticed it as well and kept grinning. The estrangement between her mother and her twin had been a weight on her for years. Things were looking good. Except for the fact that Simon tended to grin at her a lot and kept humming…that boded ill…

"And this was when Joyce was ten and we got her her first glasses…" Cecilia looked askance at her daughter and Joyce winced.

Willow squealed. "Aaaawwww. Mom you were so cute!"

Joyce groaned and looked at Simon. Who stifled a laugh.

Buffy laughed. "Cute as a button…yes."

Willow looked thoughtful. "I wonder if I would've been that cute with glasses…"

Joyce took of her steel rims and put them on Willow's nose. Willow crossed her eyes. "Wow…mom…errr…"

"Yes dear…I know…blind as a bat."

Danielle smiled and took her own horn rims from her purse. "Mine give me a head ache now…I think I need a new prescription. But you look cute as a button too dear."

There was a knock on the doorjamb and Amy stood there, looking shy and confused taking in the huge mass of people in the room. "Errr…should I leave?"

Joyce shook her head after a quick glance around the room. "No Amy…I think I'd quite like to hear how Simon instructs his apprentices…"She grinned wickedly at the blonde who blushed.

Joyce looked around, mustering the family. "We'll have Simon tell us over lunch…I think we can all use a bite to eat." She rose and bumped into the table. A giggling Willow returned her glasses.

Amy looked at the photo and grinned. "Wow Ms. Summers…you were really cute!" Joyce groaned and fled into the kitchen.

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Lunch was served outside under Dawn's tree. After the first pangs of hunger and thirst were sated and slaked Simon sat back and looked pensively at his cup. Xander groaned. "Oh, its his Deep Think look…this is going a to take a while…" Willow elbowed him in the side.

"Xander! I've been wanting to hear stuff like this for weeks! Shut up!" She hissed. The adult witches gave her an amused smile.

Simon grinned. "I'll try and keep it moderately exciting Xander…Well now…Magic. Boring as it may sound, it may be wise to talk a bit about theory first." Simon took a sip of tea and winked at Xander who groaned.

"There are two types of magic; External and Internal, sometimes called Earth and Spirit. External refers to power that is taken from one's surroundings; Internal is taken from one's own font of inner strength. Each person has an amount of power he or she can draw from these sources. Many people can use only one type, most people have such a weak ability that only rigorous training or ritual aid allows them to use magic at all. Someone in whom the talent of magic does reside but who cannot tap into it is called a Latent…someone who has no power or so little it can not be activated…such a person is called a Normal. Most people on earth fall in the last category. Clear so far?" He looked around and saw agreeing nods.

"Both types of power are released by an act of will…but this will may be directed and released in different ways.

Now we get down to the nitty-gritty… The most usual is ritual magic, with the use of spells and incantations. Most people can do this to achieve small effects; more powerful adepts can cause greater effects. The creation of potions is a ritual whereby the power of the witch is used to activate and combine the ingredients for instance."

He glanced around again. "The second method is by use of a patron…a spirit of some sort who grants greater power than the adept otherwise might channel. This is also fairly common and often combined with rituals. The most powerful adepts refuse to use this method, not wanting to be beholden to any power but themselves. All other types of magic can be combined with a patron but not always without risk." Another glance showed the thoughtful faces of the younger witches.

"The third method is the pure release of will…even if it is usually accompanied by a gesture or a word, or even the use of a focus item, in many cases that is not needed, just habit. This is an ability of the most powerful magic users…those who can use magic without words but with mere thought.

The fourth is the use of a focus device to channel once power, such as a wand, ring or amulet. Wands are the most common among those who use this method. Most of these require a spell as well, to focus the mind."

Amy cleared her throat. "So…why don't we use these focus thingies? All I've seen are rituals and spells…"

Simon nodded approvingly. "I'll get to that a bit later…suffice it to say that there are…philosophical differences between the Channellers, those who call upon their abilities without a focus, and the focus users. Now…lets delve a bit into the types of power in this room…"

He looked at Halliwell girls sitting on a padded garden bench. "The Spirit or internal power runs strong in certain families, these are called blood witches. They all have certain powers that tend to run in the family such as telekinesis or the ability to temporarily stop time or otherwise affect the molecular level. The Warren House, of which you represent the Halliwell, Ellis and Abrahams lineages are one such House. These powers are greater than that of many other spirit witches…and grow more powerful with time…but they are also the reason why these families are quite often the target of attacks by the supernatural."

Prue, Piper and Phoebe looked thoughtful, Willow excited and Buffy and Dawn ambivalent.

Simon turned to Amy. "Blood powers are those connected to a certain non human heritage: unnatural charisma for many descended of the Tuatha de Danaan or the goblins' skills with metals. Certain demon species also interbreed with humanity and these too can grant certain abilities. This is a rare power as the abilities tend to go dormant the further the distance in time from the intermingling of the blood lies and few of these races now choose to intermingle with mankind."

Xander raised a hand. "So long ago goblin-y sex equals less power?"

"Yes…"

The teens gave him a collective glare. "Then why don't you just say so!" Buffy grinned at Simon's put upon expression. He sipped his tea and continued, now looking between Willow and Amy.

"Earth powers, or nature powers can be called upon by most adepts but in differing amounts. The powerful earth power users are the strongest of all magic users. Earth power is difficult to call upon in great quantities using a focus so most of those who use the external power are Channelers."

Piper spoke up. "So we three." She gestured at herself and her sisters. "Are spirit users…or could be…" She looked at her grandmother who nodded.

"Talents can be repressed or completely removed…but that is a dangerous thing since it can permanently affect the adept physically and psychologically. It's only really safe in the very young, those below the age of puberty. They can be removed at a later time by burning them out. That of course has relatively little effect on those whose powers were earlier repressed."

Three pairs of eyes turned towards Penelope who looked down at her intertwined fingers. The eyes turned back to Simon.

"Those are a few basics…now we get to history. Around the year 75 of the Current Era a group of men began a campaign to lead the War against the darkness…for this purpose they tried to gain control of the most constant and probably important Champion of the Light, the Slayer…They set up an organization that exchanged information, sought out Potentials and fought rivals who sought to lead instead and annihilated them…which eventually brought them into conflict with the group that actually led the War…the Wizards."

"Ummm…you mentioned those before…when…" Willow looked apologetically at Buffy.

"I was angry with Giles, yes. The Wizards…we know very little about them. They had great control over magic and current belief among scholars of the mystical is that they were capable of all types of magic, both Earth and Spirit and all the forms of performing it. They lived much longer than normal humans…at least according to the legends. At any rate the Watchers, for that is what they called themselves, gathered as allies magic users who were not Wizards, demons, anything and anyone to give them an edge…this was called the Wizards' War.

It was more a campaign of murder and assassination than an actual war as I understand it…but it was successful. The power of the Wizards was broken. The few remaining ones were destroyed over the following centuries. Their actual value to the cause of Light was not really realized until the great Demon war…Ravan the Young, the Last Wizard, was slain at the Battle of the Indus, destroying the Demon Shamans of the Mongol army… in 1221…and the Hellgates opened…all of them."

Buffy swallowed heavily, her eyes wide open. Simon gave her an encouraging smile. "For a three days thousands of demons flowed into the world…until the Gates closed again, apparently by an act of the Powers…the list of Slayers does not include all those who died during that time…but there apparently were dozens, if not more…some lasting only as long as a minute."

Joyce put an arm around Buffy who was breathing shallowly and looked ready to bolt. The Halliwell sisters looked at her in shock.

Phoebe swallowed. "And here I was thinking it might be fun being a Slayer, if it allowed me to tickle Prue…"

Buffy smiled a bit bitterly. "Yeah, well…great power and all…"

Cecilia who sat on her other side hugged both her daughter and granddaughter.

Simon decided that continuing might be best. "At any rate after the Wizards' War the Council and adepts grew apart…the Watchers became ever closer to the Catholic Church and the Church did not approve of magic…and this prejudice extended to other nations' Watchers as well."

"That however, was not the greatest problem…the greatest problem was that the adepts started to split into two factions along the lines of their casting method. Channelers versus focus users. Earlier the Wizards had kept the rivalry in check but now that balance was gone. And it led to war."

Phoebe looked stunned. "War? Over the way you cast spells?"

Simon nodded. "It was a philosophical difference…you see, by using a wand, as most focus users do, you empower your spells greatly…even the least powerful magic users can perform quite considerable feats that way, including short range teleportation, which is far beyond most Channelers.

But such use of magic is draining…and it taxes the Spirit excessively, leading to a dangerous imbalance if used too often. And the focus users…use it often, for things that wiser magic users would never use it for. Things that can, and should be done by hand, if you will. The Channelers objected…and were defeated. In the sixth century the two groups split, that's called The Great Divide, the Focus users casting the Channelers out…and then they started to improve their lives… Using magic for everything, draining themselves and the magical environment."

"And what effects did that have?" Piper asked.

"Well…there were two…one environmental and one social…The environmental effect was that they plundered the magical resources of Earth…the dragons, the hippogriffs, the magical creatures, everything was used to advance their culture…hundreds of species became extinct, thereby lessening the ambient magical field of the earth since magical creatures both use and generate more magic than normal creatures. And they drew more magic from certain places than was safe, causing disruptions in the natural world, from droughts to earthquakes. This was eventually recognized and caused the second major breach in the tenth century, when a large number of Focus Users joined the Channelers."

Xander blinked. "Wow…earthquakes…droughts…"

Willow bounced up and down on her seat. "Dragons! Ooohhh…Do unicorns exist as well?"

"Yes…they do…and yes, I'll show them to you one day." Simon winked at Willow who was almost beside her self with excitement.

Danielle looked at Penelope and Cecilia. "Simon…are you having us on…Dragons? Unicorns? Why haven't we seen them then?"

"Because most of them are hidden under the Statute of Secrecy and therefore under permanent Veiling spells…"

"Statute of Secrecy?" Piper asked.

"We'll get to that…" Simon grinned at her placatingly as as she was about to ask another question.

"Now, Xander's question…Magic is a part of the world…it's in all things and things deteriorate quickly if their magic is drained faster than they can replenish it…it's like damming a river…look up the Aral sea to see what that can do. That is the primary environmental effect…though I think there are certain psychological effects of Focus use which need further study. "

Danielle nodded. "Yes…that would explain a few things…" Penelope looked thoughtful.

Simon took a sip of his tea and refilled his cup. Xander reached for a sugared donut and all three Halliwells, Buffy and Amy reached for the same jelly filled one, which led to a short scuffle. Willow's innocent exit to the kitchen was intercepted by Joyce and the pouting redhead faux sniffled. Simon grinned and put a small tin on the table and pushed it towards her. Willow opened it and her eyes widened.

"What are these?"

Cheese cookies…real ones."

Willow happily fell nibbling. After the third cookie Joyce confiscated the tin and Willow started pouting again.

Joyce gave Simon a weary look. "You just _had_ to introduce her to _another_ cheese delicacy?"

"Sorry love…" Simon grinned unrepentantly. He noticed several others tried the cookies as well, despite Willow's proprietary glares.

"Well…on from cookies…the social consequences were considerable. The excessive use allowed the focus users to advance far beyond the technological level of the surrounding areas, with light and heat and comforts unknown to the common man, which led to jealousy, anger, fear and hate. Their ability to travel further and faster, their extended lifespan by pulling magic from the surrounding area, caused even greater trouble. They used magic for their own purposes but refused to help their normal neighbours and rulers, considering themselves better than all of them…just as they consider themselves better than Channelers. They assumed the title of Wizard for their male members in the sixth century by the way…and don't consider most women to be equals to most males. They are called Witches."

Prue snorted. "Sounds like a lovely bunch of people…"

"Utterly delightful. The Normals declared war on all magic users and the Council of Watchers aided the Normals in an attempt to gain control of the Magic users. Both groups suffered, but the Focus users always had an advantage over the Channelers since their wand use allowed them to use their offensive and defensive abilities more easily and even the weakest of them was able to do things that even the strongest Channeler could only do with a great deal of difficulty. The war caused great damage and thousands died…

The Focus users became more careful but the damage was done: everybody knew about them. And this eventually, several centuries later, led to the International Statute of secrecy…the focus users call it the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy and live under the impression they enforce it…the covens do most of that. They've always been better at subtle magic, such as misdirection and aversion and setting up wards. The Focus users are more like brick in a sock to the head."

Cecilia giggled. Joyce and Charlotte looked at her as if she'd grown an extra head. "An apt description from the wand users I've met…No subtlety what so ever."

"The statute was officially ratified in 1692. At any rate, it was another nail in the coffin of the relationship between the Covens and the Focus users, since the Focus users tried to implement it unilaterally… which led to another war. Not because the Channelers were opposed…but because they refused to bow to the Focus users."

"Okay..every time you say focus user, Grams twitches…Grams?" Piper looked at her grandmother who sighed.

"It's just…most of us are less polite in our terminology…the focus users are…xenophobic, discriminatory and derogatory towards everyone who's not part of their society…so we tend to react to that…I've had…less than pleasant experiences with them, so I tend to think of them in other terms…"

The Halliwell sisters exchanged grins. "We'll want to hear some of those later."

"Yes…well to carry on…" Simon eyed the older Witch. "After the discovery of America hundreds of Channellers left Europe to settle here…which meant that that Wand users had Europe to themselves, which led them to believe they were alone and premier in the world of magic…they founded an academy for the training of Focus users in Salem…which led to the Salem Witch Trials…The numbers of Channellers in the New World were much greater in comparison to the Focus users and they refused to let their Spirit using children attend the academies…which led to even greater inbreeding among the Focus users than in the Eurasian landmass."

Penelope snorted. "It's a miracle they can walk and chew gum at the same time…"

Simon grinned at her. "Well…the greater numbers in Europe mean they are _slightly_ less inbred…"

Joyce gave him a look, and they glanced around the room. "Oh yeah…we should talk…"

Simon coughed. "Trust me…compared to the intermarrying of the Focus users, this is nothing. Most of their conflicts are about it these days: If pure blooded families should intermarry with commoners. It would have been unthinkable for a family like mine with such power and influence not to be a Pureblood family."

"Seriously? These people have a hang up or two…" Phoebe grinned.

"More than two." Simon added dryly. "The last century or so, as the numbers of Channellers increased the numbers of Focus users has decreased…and they've become more erratic. The whole superiority thing has led to major conflicts, the biggest of which they call the Global Wizarding War. It also inspired our War of the Five…but where ours lasted less than two hours after the fighting began, Wanding society is so divided, disturbed and backwards it took them years."

"Backwards?"

"They don't have technology…they're convinced that magic and technology won't mix…which they don't if you point a wand at something and shout for it to turn on. And since some of my more scientifically minded colleagues swear that we are merely manipulating the universe on a Quantum mechanical level when we perform magic…"

Willow started bouncing again. "Oooh! Oooh! Tell me more!"

Simon shrugged. "I can't. I don't understand it very well…I can show you some thought experiments and such, a few papers, or have them sent here at any rate…I once made a joke about adepts being responsible for the third variant of Schrödinger's cat, by grabbing its tail and swinging…half those present started discussing it as a viable option and departed to find a cat and a box…and the other half turned on me for animal abuse."

"You'd swing a cat?" Willow was obviously upset and Simon put two fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"No…no more than I'd put one in a box…unless I'd have to take it to the vet…"

"Can we get a cat? Please mom?" Willow looked at her mother with large bright eyes and Joyce sighed. Dawn made little noise and joined her older sister in looking hopeful.

"No. Simon, stop putting ideas in their heads…"

"Err…I'll try…anyway, the Wand Wank…err…Focus users." The older witches guffawed at Simon's slip but Joyce glared. The Halliwell sisters grinned a little. Simon continued as if he'd not slipped up.

"The Focus users seem to have failed to grasp the point that the large amounts of magical nergy, disrupts the flow of machinery, electricity, unless properly harnessed…this means that despite the fact that several magical areas lie in Central London numerous high tech driven organizations are entirely undisturbed by what lies around, beneath and above them…this has not given the Focus users pause for thought.

The problem is that they are incapable of imagining that anything invented by Muggles, as they call Normals, can be better than anything invented by them, or their society. The Covens however believe that if Normals became aware of Wanding society now, with the Focus Users lack of understanding of modern technology…that the Wanding World would last less than a week before they were utterly defeated."

Amy rubbed her chin. "Wow…so are all of us descended from the Channellers?"

"Well, both…as I said there were a number of divisions…you're descended of House McGonagall…Joyce is a member of House Warren, the Lineage of Johnson, Magical society reckons these things either through the female line, for Wicca, or the oldest magical line generally speaking."

Penelope chuckled. "And that brings us to the question…What would your House name be, if you and Joyce did marry? And followed the old ways?"

Simon looked uncomfortable. "I'd really rather not…"

"Oh come now Simon…it can't be that bad…Winklepink? Dabsonbody? Hufflepuff? Malfoy? You certainly have the sneakiness of one…" Penelope grinned at him. "And I do have a right to know…I'm family after all…" Cecilia laughed, as did Penelope.

"Death." Simon's voice was very quiet.

The older witches fell silent. "Death…H-House _Thanatos_?" Danielle squeaked in an almost perfect imitation of Willow.

"Yes."

"Goddess…what lineage?"

"Death. From eldest son to eldest son."

Penelope gulped. "And you had a _vasectomy_?"

Simon raised an eyebrow. "Well that was information that needed to be shouted across the table…but yes…I felt that the family did not deserve to continue…looking at my father."

"But…House _Death_?"

Willow raised her hand. "Errr…probably stupid…but what's so special about having a really creepy family name?"

Danielle shook herself. "It's probably the oldest known magical family in the world…I thought it was extinct…"

"Yes well…enough people tried to eradicate us over the centuries that I'd like to keep it that way…"

Danielle gulped. "Oh. Yes of course." She rose and hugged Willow. "By all means let's keep it quiet…"

Simon looked at the clock. "Well…I think I've talked enough. Unless there are questions?" He looked around. Willow and Danielle looked shocked and frightened, though Willow was more scared because Danielle was. Strangely enough Cecilia looked almost as scared and James looked decidedly worried.

"Well then I'm going shopping…anyone want anything? And yes Willow, we do have enough cheese…even for you." Willow pouted and reached for the tin of cheese cookies.

**End note:**

**Harry Potter and the Wanding Wizardry world are the property of J.K. Rowling, inconsistencies and highly objectionable morality included.**

**A fairly long chapter, but a large part of it is talking heads. (or head, it being Simon) covering a great deal of history and magical theory. If there are questions, or clarifications are needed, please let me know. Also please realize this is a one sided history…A Focus User would ****probably tell it differently. Having no beta it is quite possible a major goof slipped by me…if so, please let me know…**


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's note:**

**See end note for details**

_Chapter 30: Water, Music and unsettling news_

Jenny Calendar hesitated before ringing the bell of Rupert Giles' apartment. But they needed to talk and they needed to plan and the less others knew about it, the better. And she wasn't going to ask him to her cruddy little apartment… Rupert opened the door almost furtively. "A-ah Je...Miss Calendar." He stood aside, opening the door, but did not invite her in.

Jenny, knowing full well what dangers lurked in the dark made no comment but just crossed the threshold. "Well…any ideas?" She said as he closed the door behind her.

"I don't want to do it?"

"Very funny Rupert. Got anything to drink?"

"Of course. Tea?"

"Coffee." Jenny smiled impishly.

Giles sighed and went to make a carafe of coffee and a pot of tea, feeling they would need them Jenny followed him into the small kitchen, leaning on the counter.

"We have to sing something Rupert…I need this job and Snyder is nasty enough to sack us…or make our lives totally miserable…"

Giles looked at her as he filled the coffeemaker with water. "Why do you work here anyway? A woman of your education and background could find a job anywhere in the world…why Sunnydale?"

"It's complicated Rupert. And no doubt you have a story of your own?"

Giles blinked, his surprise clear. "Err…Yes. Well…ummm…Bay City Rollers?"

"Any women in there Rupert?"

"Erm…no."

"God…we're never going to live this down."

"No." Giles filled the filter and turned on the machine.

"So…got any ideas on how to contain your little friends? You know they'll love this…us in the talent show…"

"Well…I was thinking of sending them to kill of a few harmless demons…to keep them occupied…only Willow reads the bulletin boards and then only to check on the chess and science club meetings."

"Rupert…killing demons of any kind is not something I'd recommend for school going children…"

Giles shrugged. "You'd be amazed…I think they'd be deeply insulted if I did not send them out to kill demons…"

"Rupert…you're little homework group is weird."

Giles smiled. "Like you wouldn't believe…shall we take a look at my record collection and see if we can find anything that might be suitable? And we can both agree upon?"

"Okay…" Jenny walked out of the kitchen and started pulling records from the racks. Giles listened as she started humming tunes.

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"Mom? Can we go to the playground?"

Joyce was about to say yes when her mother interfered. "Dawn honey…would you mind terribly if I kept your mother, Aunt Charlotte and Simon here? There are some things we need to talk about."

Joyce was about ready to tell her mother to stop interfering when she saw her father shake his head at her, ever so slightly. And then she saw her mother bite her lip. This was important…and her mother was very nervous.

Joyce looked at Prue. "Would you mind?"

Prue looked at her youngest cousin and grinned. "Not at all…what do you want to do at the playground?"

There was a cough. A tall, broad shouldered black man was standing beneath the Arch Gateway. "I would presume Miss Dawn wants to train?"

Dawn pouted and whined. "Bottley! These are our cousins…we've never seen them before! It's no fun having to train if they're here! Who knows when we can get together again?"

There was a soft cough that might have been a laugh and a shorter, broader man stepped into view, his eyes a dark blue and his pale blond hair cut very close to his scalp carrying more than a few hints of grey. "Sean…why don't we make it a run through…get some of the other kids in…make it a game." He looked at the three younger Halliwells. "And you three as well…if people find out that the doctor is close to you…You'll need to be able to protect yourself…"

The three girls exchanged looks. "P-protect ourselves?"

The blonde man nodded. "Yes…and If you three are going to be like your grandmother…or your mother…" The man silent for just a second and seemed to stare off into some old memory. "Then you need to be trained…you need to be able to protect yourself. Lord knows your mother was powerful…but I can think of a number of occasions when she really could have done with a way to kick a man in the groin really hard."

Penelope took a step forward. "Leonard…"

"Penny. You look…very well."

The old witch took two steps forward and slapped him hard across the face. Then she turned and stalked into the house.

Hurst looked after her. "Well…that went better than expected."

The Halliwell sisters looked after their grandmother and then at the man in front of them. Prue crossed her arms. "Well?"

"We were engaged…she still pined after her first husband…I told her to get back in touch when she'd moved on." He shrugged. "She never did."

He looked at the teens. "Run through or training…take your pick…"

Xander looked at his sisters and Amy and grinned. "Run through…with Jokers."

Hurst nodded. "Very well. Lewis will remain here. We'll use some of the new guards as well to make it harder on you."

Xander nodded, still grinning. "So cousin Prudence…feel up to an epic battle, water pistols and all?"

Prue looked at her sisters. Piper looked determined and Phoebe just grinned evilly.

"You're going down Xander…You're gonna fall hard…"

Phoebe was panting hard as she ran through the playground. Dawn was faster than she'd thought, probably due to the ballet. And Buffy was quick and agile as water. Willow was sneaky. Xander was even worse and he carried water balloons, or grenades as he called them. Amy was just plain scary… Piper was out there somewhere with Prue. Probably hiding, Most certainly whimpering. Prue had been so certain she could at least out last Dawn…She folded her left hand around her water pistol and felt for the bottle of water she carried as extra ammo…She heard a noise and ducked. *JOKER! Dammit.*

The huge Slavic bodyguard so laconically called Bchenka by the children was impassive as he looked at her prone form on the sand of the playground castle. The water pistol in his hand seemed tiny even though it was much larger than her own. His eyes were a very pale blue she noted and he was graying at the temples…older than he looked. He leaned forward and spoke in a guttural Slavic accent. "Splash. You dead."

"No I'm not! You're a Joker!" Phoebe glared. The big man pointed and Phoebe looked straight into Willow's face. The smirking redhead didn't pause but fired her little pink plastic gun straight into Phoebe's face. And then she did a little shuffling dance and 'Eeeped."

Phoebe got up, her face calm and turned to the younger girl. And growled. Willow gulped and backed away.

"Now Phoebe…it was entirely within the rules…you just got distracted by Bchenka, which is easy 'cause he's like real big and EEEEEKKK!"

Phoebe had started tickling Willow and Willow was very ticklish. On top of the central tower of the play ground Hurst sighed. "Bloody amateurs…"

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Penelope sat on the couch looking at the fireplace her face an expressionless mask. Danielle sat down next to her. "Well…that explains why he kept out of your way until now…"

"I didn't even know he was still in the US…he told me he was going back to the UK…"

"He did…Simon didn't know by the way…I asked. Penny…"

"He was right…still is…I never have managed to put Allen behind me…and yet…" She turned to look at Danielle. "Danni…I talked to Cece…and it helped. I told her things I never told anyone else…About Allen, and our dreams, about Patty and what I wanted for her…what I want for my girls…about all my mistakes and…everything really…and I don't know what to do now…The girls need to decide what they want…and I'm so afraid they'll chose to take up their powers…and that they'll be the Charmed Ones…and yet…when Simon…"

"When he told us his House…and realizing he's going to be the last…Yes…I felt the same thing. It's the Blood Penny…the Blood calls to us, to act and do our duty and make certain there is a next generation… Can you imagine…doing that….being so certain…of the evil of your line…" She shuddered. "And the problem is it's mine too…it was enough of a surprise to realize we were the lineage of Abrahams of the House of Meier…but Abrahams of House Death…That scares me Penny…even more because when Simon dies…Willow will be the Matriarch of Death…"

"If his father hadn't been who he was…"

"Strange really…I never realized how badly all of us want to procreate…It must be a biological imperative of some sort…"

"Hmmm…I wonder…"

There was the sound of a throat being cleared. Simon stood behind them. "Actually a few people have looked into that…an entomologist called Ferris Carlyle studied the She mantis and found that the sort of pheromones they put out are excreted in lesser ways and different compositions by magic users…we attract each other, even if our magic is minimal or latent…and the pheromones also increase the need to procreate…"

Penelope grinned. "I see…so basically all of us are horny as hell and want to make babies…which is probably not helped by our society demanding we procreate to maintain our Houses."

Danielle nodded. "But it does explain why we kept that part of the Wanding society even after the Channellers split off…we just realize that there's more to it than breeding in pure bloodlines…"

"True…it also might explain why magical women are so fertile…" He looked at Danielle. "A one night stand doesn't normally lead to conception after all…"

Danielle looked thunderstruck. "Oh goddess…I never even…I thought…" Her face became outraged do you think they. " She gestured upwards. "Had anything to do with it?"

"Nanny…If they have…I'm going to let them know of my displeasure."

Danielle smiled. "As if they'd listen."

"Probably not no…Penelope…Cecilia would like to speak to us in the dining room now that the children are gone…"

Penelope smiled. "I doubt my girls will like being called children…"

Danielle gave her a look. "Phoebe certainly didn't protest being tucked in…Piper…looked disappointed I didn't…and did Prue protest at all?"

"No…Danni…maybe Joyce is right…Maybe in some ways…I can let them be children again. Especially Prue."

Penelope rose and went into the dining room. Danielle went into the kitchen and started to bake Simon's favourite blue berry crumble. Maybe it was time he had a chance to be a child again as well…

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Cecilia was standing by the window and Joyce and Charlotte were sitting on two chairs facing it when Penelope came in. James was standing beside his wife and Simon was rather uncomfortably leaning in a corner. Cecilia turned around and looked at her older sister. "Would you close the door please Penny…"

Penny did as she was asked and Cecilia sat down. James stood behind her and comfortingly put his hands on her shoulders. She closed her eyes and sighed, then opened them again.

"When I was fourteen years old a man came to our parents' house…He was tall, dark, attractive…I was…" She looked at her daughters and smiled a bit sadly. "Rather rebellious…And I was seeing a boy…and the boy's friends...all perfectly innocent today, but not back then. The man was charming, well educated, cultured, soft spoken and polite. He told me he was there to see our parents…and I let him in."

She took a deep breath and James squeezed her shoulders. "We talked until my parents came home…and then he talked to them, and he did know them, apparently quite well…they seemed to get along pretty fine. Dad made a remark about me being a handful and the man laughed and said I'd make someone an interesting wife someday…And that he'd be pleased to have me educated in a school Down East…They discussed our powers and the man offered to look into ways of lifting Gordon's latency…"

She stopped talking for a while. "The next day he came back and I let him in again. He…attacked me. I used my powers to fight back, but he'd blocked them…Walked through them as if they weren't there. And then…" She swallowed again and James held her as tears ran down her face.

Joyce and Charlotte looked horrified. "He raped you…" Joyce whispered. "I thought you meant you got away…"

Cecilia shook her head. "I…no…I didn't have a chance…He told me the things he wanted to do to me…that I'd be a good replacement for his wife…"

Simon had been growing steadily paler as Cecilia had been speaking. "P.C.J."

"What?" Cecilia looked at him.

"He wrote about you…all of his…conquests. You were…a favourite." He suddenly fell to his knees and violently vomited on the floor. Joyce was beside him in seconds, holding the waste paper basket in front of him. *The second time he's needed to use it for this…I wonder if I should start carrying barf bags…*

She looked at her mother apologetically. "From what Simon says…his father's journals are very graphic. Detailing what he did…and wanted to do…"

Cecilia paled. "Oh…oh…" James held her close as she eyed the younger man on the floor emptying his stomach. "So…"

"He's read about all of his father's 'lovers'…He tracked down some of them, to do what he could…offer what help or support he could…"

"I see…" She swallowed heavily.

Penelope walked round to Cecilia. "Cece…I still don't understand why you didn't tell me…I know you said you didn't want us to get hurt…but…father and mother would never have stood for this…for what he did to you."

"I-I…Penny…you weren't always there when we fought…they…they thought I was you know…not being a nice girl…that I was…"

"They thought you were having sex?" Penelope looked astonished. "What sort of boys did you hang out with?"

Cecilia actually blushed. "Not that sort…mostly the Shop class…And well…I knew enough to not let anything happen."

"I see…"

Cecilia waited until Simon had recovered. Joyce reached into his pocket and handed him his handkerchief, a large square of linen the size of a small tablecloth. The room was filled with the smell of vomit. Joyce rose and was about to leave, muttering about cleaning up when Cecilia stopped her.

"Joyce…there's more…"

Joyce stood stock still and then very slowly turned her face to her mother, her eyes very wide. "More? More than being raped?"

"Yes…after...the attack…I…Lashed out, I was angry, I cried a lot, disobeyed…Mom and dad talked about sending me to a boarding school…Near…_him_ so he could keep an eye on me…" Cecilia shuddered and James hugged her again.

Cecilia took a deep breath. "So when I found out I was pregnant…I didn't think they'd believe that their good friend Simon was the father."

Charlotte and Joyce gasped in unison. Simon groaned and sank down on the floor in the corner. Penelope sat down heavily on the chair next to Cecilia.

"Oh Goddess…Cece…"

"So I ran away…As far as I could…"

Joyce and Charlotte were looking at their mother with horror and pity in their eyes. "Oh Mom…"

Cecilia broke down, crying in great heaving sobs. Joyce and Charlotte rose and hugged her. Simon left the room with the wastepaper basket and returned with a box of tissues, a bucket and a mop. He handed the tissues to Joyce who supplied them to her mother and proceeded to clean the floor.

It took some time to finish mopping up the vomit but when he had Cecilia had recovered enough to continue. Simon settled at the table with a haunted, hopeful look on his face and a notepad and his fountain pen ready.

"I gave birth on March the third 1953…in Bridgeport West Virginia…and the next day I left her on the doorstep of the police station... " Cecilia broke down again. "She was so beautiful…I called her Clarice…but I knew I wouldn't be able to keep her…take care of her…my baby…my beautiful baby…" Cecilia sobbed.

Joyce and Charlotte were crying now too and Penelope had buried her face in her hands to stifle her sobs.

"I-I tried to find her later…but…I never could…I don't even know if she's still alive…"

Joyce kissed her mother's cheek gently. "Oh mom…"

She looked at Simon who had written down the few particulars and sat looking at them as if they were the greatest thing on earth. "Mom? Simon will need more…did you leave a note?"

"Y-yes…Clarice…love of my heart, I can not care for her, please keep her safe. Clarice I will love you always, your mommy." She took a deep breath. "I'd bought her a little blue baby blanket…the best I could afford…I wrapped her in it and put her in a cardboard box…It was unmarked."

"Oh mom…"

"Her eyes were the prettiest blue and her hair, she had just a little a bit, was blonde…"

Joyce looked at Simon who was still taking notes. "Anything else mom?"

"No…I tried measuring her…but she kept wriggling…I had no scales…I don't know what she weighed…" Cecilia sobbed again and James, Joyce and Charlotte held her close.

Simon took out his cell phone. "Micheala? This is an all out call…Every single available agent on the lookout…you're looking for a foundling…left on the doorstep of the Bridgeport, West Virginia police station on the 3rd of march 1953. No stone unturned, no expenses spared. A girl, blonde hair, blue eyes at birth. Wrapped in a blue baby blanket, in a cardboard box. There was a note, but we're keeping that secret…every last stone…Start now, today. This very minute. Yes…Thank you Micheala"

He looked at Cecilia. "If she can be found…my people will find her…"

Cecilia gave him a wan smile. "Thank you…"

"It's the least I can do…I wish I could do more."

Cecilia shook her head. "No…I know you will do you utmost…even if only because you want a sister."

Simon flushed. "That obvious?"

Cecilia sighed. "Joyce was right…you have been alone too long…"

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Prue Halliwell was on her knees and panting. * Why the hell did I agree to do this?* Suddenly a slight form appeared in front of her hiding place, a cavity between two upright wooden beams and two diagonals and squirted the contents of the green waterpistol it bore into her face. Prue gasped and spluttered. Dawn giggled.

"Gotcha!" The girl leaned back and grinned. "That makes three times I got you without you even getting close…I thought you were good at his?"

Prue groaned and rose. "So did I..." She knocked her head on the beam and dropped her waterpistol to grab her head. Dawn was by her in an instant. "Prue? You okay?"

Prue immediately let go of any resentment she might have felt towards her youngest cousin. The concern and worry in her voice made sure of that.

"Yeah, sure Dawn…just feel a bit silly." She moved out from her unsuccessful hiding place and felt her head.

Dawn looked at her with concern. "You sure? That looked like a pretty hard bump…"

"Yeah." Prue looked up at an anguished squeal. "PHOEBE! NO!"

Prue looked down at her youngest cousin. "Willow?"

Dawn grinned "Willow. She must have gotten Phoebe. And Phoebe is taking revenge…Prue…Prue stop looking at me like that…PRUEEEEEE!"

Piper was snaking through the old tires that were part of the playground when all of a sudden her way was cut off by a descending plate of MDF. She tried backing up bit suddenly felt the bottom of her pants getting wet and then she heard two sets of giggles. With all the dignity she could muster with a wet bum she crawled backwards out of the tire tunnel and glared at Amy and Xander who saluted her with their guns.

"I thought we weren't supposed to work together?"

Amy nodded sagely. "Quite right." She then shot Xander in the face and tackled him to the ground, squirting her gun empty down his shirt. Piper grinned and walked over to the bag Xander had put aside before shooting her and got out two water balloons.

"Heads up!"

Amy and Xander looked up to see a water balloon heading for each of their heads. Piper had always prided herself on her aim. It was excellent today.

Joyce, Charlotte and Penelope eyed their various, very wet, offspring, who were looking rather self-conscious. Joyce sighed.

"So let me see if I've got this straight…after the Run through degenerated into a tickle fest…you went to the Water Park and Buffy threw Xander into the fountain…and then Amy threw Dawn…Piper and Phoebe tossed Amy…Amy managed to trip Prue…after which you sort of lost track of who did what to who?And we'll never find out exactly what happened to cause you to stand dripping wet on the lawn?"

There was a cough and Hurst stepped forward. "Not entirely Ms. Summers…in the words of Miss Buffy…" He held up an electronic camera, as did three of the other bodyguards. "We got footage…"

There was a groan from the assembled young people. Joyce grinned at her sister and Aunt. "Go get changed you lot…Mom is making her pasta. And she'll teach the making of proper cornbread…"

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Rupert Giles sat looking at the woman on the floor with amazement. Her hair was loose around her nearly bare shoulders. She'd taken of her sweater because of the heat and now wore only a pink spaghetti strapped satin top…that was rather clingy…and of which one strap had fallen down revealing her entire bare shoulder…and when she leaned forward…to look at the records…Giles gulped and went to the bathroom, splashed some cold water on his face and took of his dress shirt and put on some jeans. The tweed was to warm…and well…he was not that old…and. He groaned…He actually thought he had a chance with her…idiot that he was. Nevertheless the t-shirt and jeans would be a lot more comfortable.

Jenny looked after him with irritation in her eyes. * Damn stupid damn idiot…What do I have to do? Waltz naked into his bedroom? I'm not even wearing a bra and he barely looks at me…* She rose and stretched, feeling her bare skin being caressed by the satin top. She noted the paperweight on his desk and blinked, muttering to herself. "He wouldn't…" She walked over and picked it up. She sighed. "He would…An Orb of Thesulah as a paperweight…Really Rupert…"

She grinned and tossed the magical crystal, reaching out to catch it. But the surface was slick and soapy and the thing slipped through her fingers, falling on the carpet and rolling under the cupboard. She groaned and got down to pick it up, swearing to herself. It might be an heirloom…if it was damaged…Rupert would not be pleased.

Giles walked downstairs just in time to see her on her knees, her bottom waggling in the air as she was reaching under his record cupboard and swearing a blue streak. "Come here you stupid thing…Got you! She came out form under the cupboard, her top even more in disarray and Giles noticed that she was most certainly not wearing a bra. He gulped. "Jenny…something wrong?"

She looked at him guiltily. "I was playing with your paperweight and dropped it…I hope it wasn't an heirloom?"

Giles chuckled. "Heavens no…I bought it at the local magic shop…It's an Orb of Thesulah, you can use them to set protective wards and keep out malign spirits." He shrugged. "Which considering where we live…is a useful thing."

Jenny looked relieved. "Oh, thank Goddess…I was afraid that I'd damaged something of emotional value…Hey, you do have a tattoo!" She pointed at the black mark peeking out from beneath the short sleeve of his t-shirt.

Giles froze. "Ah errr…yes…It's a remnant of my misspent youth…very misspent…and very youthful."

Jenny reached out, pushing up the t-shirt. Giles tried to pull back and she grinned. "Oh stop being a baby…I'll show you mine…" Giles gulped. She continued pushing up his sleeve up and looked at the strange rune. *Magical…it feels…dark…Oh dear…Misspent youth indeed…make sure to remember this…send SoS a mail or message about it…Crap…Why do all the men I fall in love with embrace the dark? I've got to get out of here…throw him of balance, then get out Jenny…*

She let go of the sleeve and grinned again. "Good boy…Want to see mine now?"

Giles nodded. Jenny turned her back and very slowly let her top drop a bit, exposing the area below her shoulder blade. A tattoo was revealed, about two inch across of a raven.

"There…that's mine."

"Raven…the Trickster?"

Jenny grinned at him over her shoulder as she drew her top back up. "Yeah…I lost a bet in college…and as I always pulled these silly practical jokes…they thought this would be appropriate…"

"They pull pranks at MIT?"

"Oh yes…yes indeed. Like you wouldn't believe."

"I'm sorry…it just always seemed such a staid institution to me…"

Jenny looked at him in disbelief? "Staid? Rupert…what world do you live in?"

"Well there's this verse you see…" He grinned at her and she groaned as he started declaiming.

"Root-ti toot, Root ti toot,

We are the girls of the Institute,

We don't neck and we don't screw,

We don't go out with boys who do!"

Jenny huffed. "I'm sure something similar exists about Oxford!"

"Well yes…but all completely untrue. Are you telling me you date boys who do?" He grinned at her salaciously and she gulped.

"No…not boys…men…yes. Boys…No." She grinned back and felt the strap on her left shoulder fall down and saw Rupert swallow.

"Yes…errr well…errr…"

"Do you know how they separate the boys from the men Rupert?"

"Errr…"

Jenny pulled the strap back up and picked up her sweater. "Give me a call when you do. Bye!"

She left quickly pulling the door closed behind her. I her car she drew the symbol on piece of paper with her ballpoint pen. Then she hit her steering wheel with both her hands hard and swore violently before driving off.

**End Note:**

**I found this a very difficult chapter to write. I wanted to show the anguish that Cecilia felt when leaving her daughter, and the pain she still suffers from it. I hope I succeeded.**

**I also should note that Clarice is not an OC…the timeline for her background has been changed however.**


	30. Cheaper by the dozen

**Author's note:**

**Disclaimers at the end of the ****chapter.**

**Thanks to all those who've recommended me, ****Addlcove; bigman; Blackett; catnthecradle; dogbrother; etienneofthewestwind; Garmorn; grd; hpssslashfan; Panaka; PATM; smee; war; wozwashi and Zaz.**

**The chapter is fairly long to accommodate a lot of angst and family drama…and yet it is only Saturday night…Last chapter I tr****ied interspersing the happy bits with the more serious bits…I hope that worked.**

**I was wondering, does anybody feel I should adjust the rating of the story? It references a great many adult situations but never actually shows them and the amount of violence, so far, is pretty mild. Suggestions? Thanks in advance.**

**I will admit Simon's father was a piece of work. One of my nastier creations. A pity he's dead really…he would make a nice adversary… I mean, the line could have been strengthened even more by **_**inbreeding**_** after all…**

_Chapter 31: Cheaper by the dozen _

Simon's phone went and testily reached into his pocket, intending to chew out whoever was calling until he saw the number. He stepped into the Dining room and closed the door.

"Michaela? Is it bad?"

"Simon…I can only tell you something if there's a direct relative near…She's in our system."

"Her mother is here, right now."

"Simon…the foundling is quite famous…we need more than that…"

"Do you have the text of the note?"

"Yes…I do."

Simon took out the piece of paper with his notes. "Clarice, love of my heart, I can not care for her, please keep her safe. Clarice I will love you always, your mommy. That it?"

"Yes…Simon…if you know this woman who says she's her mother…"

Simon barked a harsh laugh. "Trust me Micheala…This woman would have nothing to do with me if she could help it…"

Michaela sighed. "I'll call her. And let her know. And then I'll get back. Can I give her a place to call? A place to go?"

"This number. 1630 Revello Drive Sunnydale her mother's place in Imperial." He gave her the address.

"Your own phone?"

"Yes…Micheala…when you speak with her…her mother, two of her three half sisters and her half brother are here, this weekend, as well ahs her nieces, nephew and a few cousins…"

Micheala sighed. "I'll tell her, I'll tell her. I'll call you later." She hung up and Simon leaned against the closed door, looking absently at his phone.

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Michaela Tyler was a dedicated woman and she was good executive. She was also loyal and knew very well that Simon Meier would never call her in a weekend unless it was absolutely vital. Considering her rank within the Meier Foundation, that meant never.

She also knew that 1630 Revello Drive was for all intents and purposes, Simon's home address, which meant this probably was very personal.

She picked up her desk phone and dialled the mobile number listed for contact. It had been quite recently changed, she noted.

The phone was picked up on the second ring by a slightly annoyed voice. "Clarice Starling."

"Miss Starling? This is Micheala Tyler, from the Meier Foundation."

"Meier Foundation?" Michaela noted just a slight Virginia twang in the woman's warm, gorgeous voice.

"Yes…you left your information with us in case we ever came across information regarding your natural parents."

There was a thud as if someone had just sat down heavily. "What? I tried for years! I never found anything!"

"Foundlings' parents are often very difficult to find…we tend to say that we can usually only help when they come forward…of course in your case many did who were not related."

"Yeah…I left a DNA test for that…"

"Yes…we haven't matched that yet. But this is the first time someone has given the text of the note…and the blanket and the fact the box was bare…and considering the source…I think it may be the best lead ever."

"Oh god." The woman on the other end sobbed. "What can you tell me? Names? Anything?"

"Apparently there's some sort of family gathering going on…two half sisters, a half brother and your mother, or at least the woman who claims to be. And a large number of cousins. But otherwise…No."

"Where? Where are they…Oh never mind, I could never get there on time…" The amount of sheer desperate loneliness in the woman's voice hammered at Michaela's heart.

"That of course depends where you are…I take it you want to meet them…her?"

"YES! I do…I've wanted to for years…why didn't she come forward sooner?" There were tears in Clarice's voice now and Michaela guessed it was a rare occurrence.

"Well...where are you?'

"I'm in LA on a case…Just finished it. I work in San Diego."

Michaela smiled. "Sunnydale. Do you know where that is?"

"Sunnydale…" the woman breathed. "That's less than two hours with luck…"

"Yes…1630 Revello Drive."

"Thank you. I'll go pack." The woman hung up and Michaela blinked at her phone.

"Well…at least she's decisive…"

She dialled Simon's number and noticed he answered Immediately. "Simon…apparently she was in LA…she's on her way now…I hope to God your woman is her mother…or you may have a depressed federal agent on your hands."

"Federal agent? Clarice? Coming here?"

"Special Agent in Charge Clarice Starling of the San Diego FBI Field Office."

"Clarice…" Michaela wondered at the emotion choked voice of her employer. "Thank you Michaela…thank you."

"You're welcome Simon…and…good luck."

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Simon went into the kitchen and gestured at Joyce with his head. James noticing it looked at him and he nodded. James rose as well, kissing Cecilia as he went past her. They met up in the dining room.

Joyce gave him an anxious look. "Is she dead? That's why you knew so fast isn't it?"

Simon gave her a radiant smile and suddenly James saw the similarity between Simon and Willow.

"No…she's on her way here. She lives and works in San Diego…Special Agent in Charge of the FBI field office there."

James let out a sigh of amazement. "Dear god…she lives closer than any of the other girls…What's her name?"

"Clarice Starling…"

"They let her keep the name…Cecilia will be so happy." James grinned broadly.

"So do we tell her?"

Joyce and her father nodded. "Yes…Cecilia does not do surprises very well…" James smiled.

"Ummm…" Simon gave the older man a hesitant look. "Do you want to tell her, or…"

"You do it. It was your people that found her."

Simon smiled and went to the kitchen where Cecilia was showing Piper the best way to keep the air in the dough when making her corn bread.

"Cecilia? Do you have a moment?"

Cecilia froze and looked at him with haunted eyes. She nodded. "Keep kneading with your fingers Piper, you too Willow…Buffy…" She sighed and her oldest grand daughter looked contrite at the misshapen lump of dough and then the light fluffy piles that Willow and Piper were handling. "Never mind dear…the Hammer is in the car…why don't you deal with the chicken in the way you like." She winked and Buffy nodded happily, running off after cleaning her hands.

Simon gave her a look. "Hammer?"

Cecilia chuckled. "Tenderizing hammer…"

Simon winced. "I just hope we have a work top left after…"

Cecilia gave him a look. "Oh come now Simon, she's just a girl…Oh…Slayer…you're right…Willow dear, tell your sister to hold back a little."

Willow looked at the older woman and then her face blossomed in a huge beaming smile. "Okay Gra…Mrs. Ellis."

Cecilia was drying her hands and turned to the young girl. "Gran or Grandmother will do fine dear. But one Grams out of you and I'll borrow your mother's slipper…" She eyed the three Halliwells who innocently met her gaze. "And no more coaching Dawn to say it Phoebe! I'm not so old yet that I can't fit you over my knee…drunk or otherwise." She grinned.

Phoebe gulped. "AUNT CECILIA!"

Prue was snorting with laughter and Piper had to turn away from her dough to prevent her from spluttering over it. Willow manfully tried to contain her own laughter and kept bursting out in slight giggles. Phoebe groaned.

"Well…that settles that. Come on Simon."

"Yes Ma'am."

He led her into the dining room, pulled out a chair and sat her down. James and Joyce were in the corner and Charlotte was sitting at the head of the table, looking a bit ill.

"Its' bad isn't it?"

"Well…I'd prefer she were in a less dangerous line of work…and we need an extra place setting at dinner…"

Cecilia gave him a look. "E-extra setting?"

"She's the Special Agent in Charge of the San Diego FBI…she was in LA…and she's on her way now…"

""My baby…"

"Her name is Clarice Starling…"

Cecilia hugged herself. "They let her keep the name…Simon…how did you do this so fast?"

Simon shrugged. "The Meier institute has a service to help children find their natural parents. She's registered…and I don't know exactly why she's hot footing it here…"

There was a thunderous noise and then a crack and then a loud 'Sorry!' Joyce looked around and then at her mother. "Mother…did you bring the Hammer?"

Cecilia flushed. "I told Willow to tell Buffy to be careful!"

Joyce sighed and left for the kitchen. "I just got that work surface too! I liked it!" She muttered as she went out the door. Cecilia looked a trifle guilty.

"You heard me tell Willow…"

Simon smiled. "Buffy may not have given Willow a chance to tell her…She can be a bit enthusiastic at times…"

James laughed. "Oh lord; yes…I remember the time she and Celia decided to help with the woodcutting…"

Cecilia rose. "I'll go see how bad the damage is."

The girls in the kitchen were silent. The old tenderizing hammer laid split in two on a badly dented cutting board, a chicken fillet, very thin indeed, lining the dent.

"Oh dear...where's Buffy?"

Willow wiped away a tear. "She ran outside…Mom's with her…I'm sorry…"

"Whatever for dear? Buffy's always been exuberant."

"But…Buffy…your hammer…"

Cecilia blinked. "Why ever would she be upset about that? I've broken several in my time. I'll just have James make a new one, like always."

"S-several?"

"We do have this temper dear…sometimes the cutting board is the best thing to hit." She looked at the pads of dough. "Why don't you set those in bowls to rise and make some more. There will be one more guest for dinner. I'll tell you later…first I'll go talk to Buffy."

She walked outside to see her daughter looking up at the treehouse. "Buffy! Come down!"

Cecilia grinned to herself. "That's a bit useless you know…none of you three ever did that merely when called…"

"Mother…" Joyce gave her an exasperated look.

"I need to talk to Buffy. Joyce…go supervise the girls before they blow up the kitchen."

"But…"

"It was my hammer Joyce…and I still need to apologize. And Willow could use a hug…she seems to think this was her fault." Cecilia went to the bottom of the ladder and started to climb.

"Mom! Be careful!"

Cecilia looked down. "Really Joyce…it's no worse than the ladder to the attic at home." Her face became thoughtful. "Remind me to talk to you about that later…" She climbed through the hole in the floor and hoisted herself up.

"Hello Buffy."

"Gran…" The girl had obviously been crying but was now eyeing her grandmother with a look part fear part disbelief.

Cecilia looked around and then happily sank down on a cushion next to Buffy.

"You're not pregnant are you dear?"

"Huh! What? GRAN!" Buffy whined and blushed.

"I'll take that as a no then…I broke three when I was pregnant with your aunt Arlene…Hammers that is. Your grandfather has always been fond of steak…"

"So you're not mad?"

"Heavens no dear…even if you're grandfather didn't enjoy making them they're only a couple of dollars."

"B-But…" Buffy looked uncertain and bit her lip. Then she looked away.

"Buffy…sometimes things that are cheap are dearer to the heart than things that are expensive…but this isn't one of those times."

Buffy nodded. "Gran…why were you so upset when I-I used that…"

"It's not a rag Buffy…" Cecilia looked into the distance. "It was my father's handkerchief…I took it with me when I ran away…It's the last tangible thing I have…had to remember them by."

"H-had?" Buffy's eyes filled with tears. "I thought I just…"

Cecilia hauled her into a hug. "You just got it dirty, yes…But now I can visit my family home again…take all of you to see it. Show you the park where I played as a little girl…San Francisco…I haven't been there in decades…"

"So you're not mad?"

"No dear…but you may want to watch your strength…Your mother's cutting board will never be the same again…"

Buffy started to sniff. "I'm sorry."

"Oh heavens dear…its not your fault…It takes time to get used to Slayer strength, as well as magic…it took me years to properly master my magic."

"It's just…I remembered what you told me the first time…"

Cecilia started to laugh. "Oh Buffy…you were five…hit it as hard as you can…even now that you're fifteen."

"Almost sixteen!" Buffy bristled.

"Almost sixteen…" Cecilia good naturedly allowed. "You'd still macerate the chicken into a pulp even when normal. It's a miracle you didn't hit straight through the table…"

"Yeah…Wills called out to hold back…" Buffy blushed.

"It'll be fine dear; your grandfather can make a new cutting board too."

"I'll go and help mom." Buffy made to rise but Cecilia held her back.

"First we need to talk…as in I need to apologize."

"Gran?"

Cecilia sighed and suddenly looked old and sad. She put a hand to Buffy's face. "If I'd told your mother…about magic…you would never have been committed…"

Buffy looked thoughtful. "If mom had told you what I told her…what would you've done?"

"Gone to LA and frozen the bastards before they could take you away…and have sworn a blue streak…and…" She sighed. "Confessed to Joyce…"

"And you didn't tell us because we didn't need to know…"

"Well…I wanted you to have a normal life…You and Dawnie were, are both latent. Very powerful, but latent. So was Joyce. I saw no need to bother you with things that should never have come your way…vampires are rare enough that most people don't encounter them. Slayers draw them, as does the Hellmouth…"

She glared at the ceiling. "And settling you here is definitely something the Powers that Be will be hearing about…"

Buffy grinned. She could just see her grandmother taking the Powers to task for not taking care of her girl.

"So…if mom had told you everything…you would've…"

"Yes…but the initial fault is still mine…I kept this from your mother and you…for entirely selfish reasons…" She sighed. "Just be glad your mother was so much better at being a mother before she became a Mother."

Buffy giggled. "That was a whole load of Mothers…"

Cecilia gave her a look. "I'm not entirely up to date dear…but that was a bad word even when I was young…if I hear you refer to it again in that way…Slayer strength or no…"

Buffy swallowed and rubbed her butt. "Gran? Err…about that…you know I've got this special healing thing…"

"Yes dear…I never met a Slayer, but I understand you heal faster, recover faster and are far more resistant to damage than normal mortals or even most witches."

"Errr…yeah…Gran…why does it hurt when Mom spanks? And why does it take, well longer to heal?" Buffy blushed as she asked the question and Cecilia's mouth quirked.

"Oh dear…That sounded like a plural…what have you been up to young lady?"

Buffy sighed. "Gran? It's all Slayer related…I've not been drinking or stuff, or smoking…I'd get grounded for a that anyway…I think…But I broke rule one and two…"

"I see…well in your line of work some danger is to be expected…I'll talk with Joyce…spanking you for saving someone hardly seems reasonable. If James had done that to me every time I did it…"

"Y-You saved people?"

Cecilia smiled. "Yes…now as to your question…a mother cares and nurtures…but she also disciplines. I'd imagine that it has something to do with that. I'm not an expert on the Mother power…but I used to be quite friendly with a witch who is…" She looked thoughtful. "And it's about time I got back into contact with some old friends…Maybe Simon can get me into contact with her."

Buffy sighed. "So…whenever I do something, you know…."

"That deserves punishment? You will get punished…and you will feel it."

"Ouch."

"Yes."

"Better not get caught then…errr."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that…but Buffy…I was quite the wild child myself, as was your aunt Arlene…your mother always was the most mature…Please remember that she tends to look at the world a little like a…a …"

"Nerd?" Buffy smiled.

"Not the word I was looking for…but I suppose it is true… "

"I love mom…she's the best…and she's got a good taste in clothes…but I really can't get into all those French books she reads…"

Cecilia grinned. "To tell you the truth dear…neither can I…but I love her very much…and I'm very proud of her."

"I love her too…and you…I'm sorry about the Hammer…"

"Stop worrying about the Hammer dear, like I said, a new one is easily gotten. Now you can help your old grandmother down these steps…"

"Gran?"

"Yes Buffy?"

"Thanks."

"You're very welcome dear."

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Dawn looked at her grandmother as the woman sat on the front porch, looking worriedly at her watch.

"I'm sure the bread will be fine Gran."

Cecilia smiled. "The bread is not what I'm worried about dear…"

"Gran? What's wrong?"

"I-I…" Cecilia looked around. Most of the "A lady will be visiting…You know I ran away from home?"

"Yeah…Gran? Is she a new aunt?"

Cecilia stiffened and then laughed. "Dawn Florence…you are an amazing girl…"

Dawn smiled smugly. "Yeah. I know…What's she like?"

"I don't know dear…I…haven't seen her since the day I had to leave her behind…"

"Oh…so that's why you're nervous…You don't know if she'll like you…and you've got a house full of people she's never met either…maybe Mom's power will help…"

"Maybe…"

"It'll be alright Gran…" Dawn put her arms around her grandmother and hugged.

Cecilia smiled at the girl hugging her. "When did you get so wise?"

"I talk to granddad a lot…"

Cecilia chuckled. "Yes…that would help. C'mon Dawnie…lets go in and have dinner…I fear you're new aunt will be late."

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Clarice Starling cursed her luck. Three accidents and a series of road works had delayed her by more than four hours…It was dark by the time she turned into Revello Drive and slowly let the car bleed speed as she read the numbers and names on the mailboxes. 1630…Summers…Summers…The name seemed familiar. The Driveway was full and she pulled up a ways beyond the house and parked there, staring blankly into the night. *Family…I haven't had family since Uncle John died…and he only wanted to see me after I took down Lecter…I wonder what they are like…If they know who I am…remember…know about…* She shook herself and got out of the car, went to the boot and got out her overnight bag. She took a deep breath, she'd faced, and defeated some of the world's worst monsters…these were ordinary people. She'd have to try and get through at least one night without freaking them out…

Clarice froze. A girl, blonde, maybe fifteen or sixteen was watching her and two vampires were stalking the teen.

"Hey…I'm Buffy…Buffy Summers…I guess you must be my aunt Clarice?" 

"Buffy…Get behind me…" She absently noted how her voice fell back into her childhood accent in the moment of stress. Like hell was she going top loose a cousin she only just met!

Clarice dropped her bag drew her gun and aimed all in one smooth movement, firing three clustered shots into the first vampire's spine at the juncture of head and neck. It fell, but she knew she'd have to deal with it later. She turned to the next one but Buffy was in her way…with a stake? The vamp threw a punch and Buffy _blocked_ it? Her arm should be broken and she should be whimpering on the ground!

And then…she kicked the vamp in the groin and as the thing blinked, grasping at its manhood, she slammed her foot into its chin, throwing it off balance and leaving it wide open…and there it went in a small patter of ashes. Buffy knelt by the fallen vamp and staked that as well. Then she rose, quite calmly until Clarice saw Buffy's face. It was…incredulous.

"You know about vampires?" Her voice was light and airy and utterly astonished as well.

Clarice felt her mouth quirk.*Well...that is one thing I can talk about…with Buffy at least.*

"Yes. Some of the serial killers I tracked were vampires…"

Buffy's eyes widened. "Holy…You're Darlin' Starlin'! The Killer Catcher!"

Clarice winced. "Buffy…if you ever call me any of those names again…"

Buffy blushed. "Sorry! Sorry! I…we just didn't make the connection."

"You…didn't?"

"No…ummm. Do you like pasta? Only there's some left or otherwise Gran will make new one…but you really should get inside…Gran is getting really frightened something happened to you…"

"She is?"

"Oh yeah…c'mon, this way."

Clarice rather dazedly followed her niece. She saw the lights come on in some houses and the porch light of number 1630 revealed a group of people who'd come out at the sound of the gunfire. A small, upright woman with dark blond, greying hair stood in front. To Clarice she didn't look all that old…not even sixty…it fit in with the description of the teen girl who had fled Bridgeport the night she was left…young…so very young.

The woman stepped forward and looked at her and Clarice looked back. There was fear in those eyes, and a longing that Clarice herself felt too.

"Ummm…I don't know your name…I just ran out of the door..."

"Impulsive…I bet you've got a temper too…" The woman smiled. "I'm Phillipa Cecilia Ellis…I was born Johnson…"

"Ah…ah'm Clarice Starling…" She winced as she fell into her accent again. Damn stupid nerves!

"My Clarice…my beautiful little Clarice…" The woman took a hesitant step forward and Clarice dropped her bag. "Mom?"

"Yes Clarice…Mom."

Clarice Starling did something she hadn't done in over a decade. She broke down and cried. She vaguely felt the warm, comforting arms around her, felt herself being led inside and hugged, put on a couch and given water, yet never did the arms around her let go. She buried her face in her mother's shoulder and neck and bawled.

When she came to herself she was sitting on the couch with her mother and a box of tissues. And lots of used ones.

"Ah'm sorry…"

"Oh honey…there's nothing to be sorry for…"

Clarice sniffled. "I haven't cried in years…"

"Then you probably needed it. I also bet you've been holding in your temper…we need to fly of the handle on occasion…it keeps us on an even keel…"

"Keeps us going mad? Yeah…I could use that…"

"If you mean vampires dear…we all know about them. I suppose we shouldn't be surprised that an FBI profiler would as well…"Cecilia mused thoughtfully.

Clarice gasped. "You all…"

"Yes dear…which brings up the next problem…" Cecilia looked uncomfortable. Then she picked up a tissue and gestured at it. It fell apart in a burst of flames.

Clarice gaped. "M-magic? You can do magic?" She gave her new found mother a look. "Does that mean…"

"Yes dear…you can too…a lot of magic."

"But…I've never…"

"I…I had to bind your powers…to keep your father from finding you…your biological father."

Clarice nodded. "How old were you?"

"I was fourteen…I…love you…always know that, I loved you the minute I knew you were growing inside me…"

"He raped you. To make me." It was not a question.

"Yes. I had to keep you safe…I fled to Britain…I met my husband…and then I couldn't find you…" A tear ran down the older woman's face. "My poor, lonely baby…"

Clarice felt her own tears starting again. "Oh mom…what happens now?"

Cecilia gave her a mustering look. "When did you last eat?"

Clarice blinked and then chuckled as the stomach rumbled. "Errr…"

"Then first you get something to eat…I'm sure there are plenty of people who want another bit of pasta and cornbread…Come on."

She rose and helped Clarice of the couch, leading her into the kitchen. A small, cute red head was just lifting a glass cloche of a selection of cheeses and dropped it back guiltily upon the wooden base.

Cecilia sighed and smiled. "Willow…"

"I know Gran…no Cheese…" She pouted, and then brightened. "Hello Aunt Clarice!" She left through the kitchen door.

"Ummm…she seemed quite…errr…Laid back?"

"Yes well…her mother has sort of told all of them to give us some time alone…most of them are in the garden…Dawn is in bed."

Clarice looked out of the window and saw the gathering beneath the tree, lit by a few garden torches and several strings of Christmas lights.

"I should…" He stomach rumbled.

"Eat first. Sit." Cecilia pulled out a stool and then pushed Clarice on to it. She put a plate into a microwave and turned it on, put basket of bread by her daughter's side and a knob of butter, as well as a small jar of fresh pesto.

"Are we Italian?"

"Not really…we just like pasta."

Clarice grinned. "So…what are we?"

"Hmmph…I'll have Simon tell you the history of magic…but we did _not_ come over in the Mayflower…those people would have burned us at the stake…We've been here a pretty long time however…We've got Irish and French and, yes a little bit of Italian blood…your sisters are one quarter Native American…"

"Oh…Umm…You're married?"

"Yes…I met James while he was stationed in the UK…I came back with him again. We've got three girls. Arlene, Joyce and Charlotte, the last two are twins."

"And…"

"He'll accept you dear…He was very impressed by Buffy's description of your shooting skills."

"Buffy…Buffy Summers! Of course! She took down Lothos…No wonder that vamp outside had no chance!"

Cecilia blinked. The microwave beeped and she rose and fetched the plate. Clarice felt her mouth water and her nose wrinkled. She fell to as soon as the plate stood before her.

"Do…you have?"

"No…not married…no children…no boyfriend…married to the job…" *And the job wants a divorce…* she thought bitterly.

Cecilia gave her a sharp glance. "I see…Clarice…From what my granddaughters and nieces tell me…You're a famous profiler…one of the best…why are you out here, leading a field office in San Diego? I may not know a lot about the FBI…but that does not seem like a promotion to glory to me."

Clarice snorted. "You don't beat about the bush do you mom?" She ate a few bites.

"I told them about vampires…the upper levels…were not amused…going public…instant suicide. They…gave me San Diego for services rendered, with the strong implication I'd better find something else to do in the next few years…I'll get a medal and a nice speech…bye bye Clarice…"

Suddenly the tears came. "Its all I ever wanted to do mom…catch the criminals, the worst bastards, the killers…all I ever wanted to do…and they're taking it away from me…"

"Oh honey…" Cecilia rose and hugged her oldest daughter, wiping away her tears after she'd cried herself out. Then her face grew thoughtful. "Maybe your brother can help there…"

Clarice stiffened. "Yeah…you only have girls…so how?"

"Your father's son…your elder brother…"

"B-but…how?"

"He wants to marry Joyce…and oddly enough he's a good man…Even if he looks too much like his father for my peace of mind…"

"But what can he do?"

"Ah…probably more than you can imagine…"

Clarice looked down at her squeaky clean plate. "Errr…mom? Can I have seconds?"

Cecilia laughed. "It seems you like pasta too…"

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Joyce Summer looked at her daughters, son and cousins. "There will be no badgering Clarice for cool stories about crime. There will be no questions about Hannibal Lecter…there will be _no_ remarks about bespoke suits…And no one…" She glared at them all, which was backed up by Penelope and Danielle. "Will refer to her as Darlin' Starlin', The Killer Catcher, Cannibal Catcher Clarice or any of the other things she got called in the press. Understood? I will personally take a slipper to any of you who make her feel uncomfortable!"

Prue made a squawk of protest but was silenced by two well aimed elbows in her sides. She glared at her sisters but Piper just moved her head to point at their grandmother, who was looking equally fierce. "Don't Prue…It won't even happen if we let Clarice set the pace."

Buffy looked worried. Piper grinned. Knowing her cousin's tendency to blurt things out, she probably feared retroactive retribution.

After finishing her second plate slightly slower than her first Clarice let herself be guided outside. The collection of people quietly chatting there fell silent. Clarice froze.

The blonde she'd seen outside bounced up before anyone could stop her, hugging her fiercely, but also whispering in her ear. "Aunt Clarice? I'm really, really sorry! Please don't tell mom what I called you?" Her lower lip trembled slightly and Clarice grinned. Apparently Joyce had laid down the law. She tenderly stroked the girl's hair and then looked around. Two of her three sisters…Charlotte and Joyce…Charlotte's husband Harry…Joyce's boyfriend Simon…her half brother who looked just like…

"Holy motherfucking Hannibal on stick!" Clarice swore, before slapping hand before her mouth, looking mortified.

Cecilia gave her a deceptively mild look. "We'll be talking about that potty mouth of yours later dear…I take it you recognized Simon?"

"Yes Ma'am! I mean, mom. Sorry mom." She looked at Simon with awe. "We met…"

"At a fundraiser…for orphans…I remember…"

"We were both bored as he..ck…"

Joyce gave Simon a suspicious look. "Simon…what did you do?"

"Well…the two of us may have led a group of orphans in a spirited rendition of the _Star Spangled banner_ during the key note speakers very long…"

"And boring, don't forget boring…" Clarice added with a grin.

"Speech." Simon grinned too.

Joyce sighed and stepped forward. "Well…I'm Joyce…I used to be the middle sister. Charlotte…come up here and great your sister." She grinned at her twin. Charlotte rose and rolled her eyes. 

"Domineering older sisters. Feh."

"Now, now Charlotte…you just gained a new domineering elder sister…"

"And you will stop teasing our bay sister right now Joyce!" Clarice's voice was joking but had a slight edge.

Joyce involuntarily let out a very Willow like 'eeep'.

Charlotte laughed. "Well, that's novel…"

"Yeah. New for me too." Clarice stepped forward and hugged both her younger sisters. Both were taller than she was. Then she stepped away and Simon very slowly approached. She studied him and he her.

He saw a petite but strong and fit woman. He knew her age was forty-two but she still looked several years younger. Her hair was a deep glossy auburn and her large eyes were deep grey green. Her heavily lidded eyes were much like his own but her nose was far less pronounced, luckily for her. She had heavy eyebrows and a pale skin, like her mother. Her face was delicate oval and her chin firm and with a tiny cleft. He reached out a hand to shake hers and then she was hugging him and he was hugging her back.

He didn't know when he started to cry. She couldn't remember when she started either.

They sat in the garden under the tree, two people who'd been alone for most of their lives.

"You know…I've always wanted a big brother…One who could chase away all the bad boys…solve my problems…it was a nice thing to dream of when I was eleven and in the orphanage…I know you can't make all my problems go away…"

"Well…we won't know that until you tell me all your problems…" He said teasingly.

"Yeah…can you stop the Director of the FBI from sacking me if I refuse to resign?"

"Why is he sacking you?"

"Vampires."

"Aha…well…We could do it under Secret Executive General Order Number One…"

"The _what_?"

"It was signed by Samuel Huntington and has been ratified by all Presidents since then…it grants the Covens of the Concordat the right to fight demonic and magical threats to the country and tell US officials to comply with their orders..."

"Holy…"

"You don't want to finish that…if your mother hears there'll be soap in your future…" he grinned as did she.

"She wouldn't really do that, would she?" Clarice looked worried.

"I don't know…I do know from Joyce that she wields a mean slipper…"

"Well, I'm certainly too old for that!"

Simon snorted. "I wouldn't bet on it…"

"Ah…Think we're ready to rejoin civilization?"

"Do you mean can I last without crying? Yes."

"You don't seem terribly upset to have cried in front of people…"

"Clarice…The stupid notion that men don't cry is responsible for a lot of very unhappy men. Crying is a natural release of emotion. I see no shame in it."

"How did you get so wise?"

"I lived. It wasn't always pleasant…Come on, you need to speak with all your nieces and nephews before they get sent to bed."

Clarice grinned. "Yeah…as if."

"Just wait until you see Joyce in action."

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Clarice sat leaning against her mother. It was not something she ever expected to do…nor was her mother anything like what she expected. Her adoptive mother had died when she was sixteen months old, and her adoptive father when she was ten…being raised in an orphanage she'd thought her real mother, the girl her father had told her about as he lay dying, held no feelings for her…until she'd found that note in the old box, with the blue baby blanket. She'd have to ask her mother about the blanket. Later. Now she snuggled into her mother's warmth and yawned like a baby.

She saw the amused glances from her sisters and tried to struggle upwards, but Joyce gestured. "Easy Clarice…it looks like something you've wanted to do for a while."

The FBI agent shrugged and went back to snuggling. "Yeah…a long time." She felt her mother's arm tighten around her and realized that it would take a while for Cecilia's guilt to be assuaged. To know that her mother had felt so terrible about leaving her behind made her feel oddly better.

"Mom? What powers do you have? As a Witch I mean?"

Clarice noticed her younger sisters sitting up at that, as well as he aunt.

Cecilia smiled. "Well…I can brew potions…"

Charlotte made a face. "Mom!"

"Oh very well…My first power was molecular immobilization as it's called these days." She sniffed. "I still like freezing better…It developed into molecular combustion…I can also use molecular deceleration and acceleration."

Penelope nodded. "Nice…and you Charlotte?"

"I seem to have a double whammy of telekinesis…I can affect a lot of stuff. Big, Small, you name it…And I think I may be getting levitation…"

Penelope grinned. "Me too…a very useful power…more versatile than people think.

"Arlene has visions…but she takes suppression potions…if she has another power, she never told me…"

Joyce chuckled. "She's going to be in for a rude shock or two!"

Charlotte sniffed. "Serves her right for moving to Chicago! Too far east for my taste…"

"I was born in West Virginia you know…"

"Really? Couldn't tell…" Charlotte winked.

Cecilia felt Clarice stiffen. "Oh yes…and your valley girl accent is hardly noticeable at all Charlotte." She remarked sharply while hugging her eldest.

Charlotte looked contrite. "I'm sorry 'Ris."

"Ris?"

"Yeah…I'm Lolly…still better than Charlotte…Joyce is Joy, Arlene is 'Lene…so you're Ris." She declared haughtily. "Duh."

"Ah…of course…baby talk."

Joyce started laughing at her twin's outraged expression. "Give it up Lolly…she's easily a match for your blunted wit… I told you Harry was too nice for you too sharpen your tongue on…"

Lolly stuck out the appendage in question. "Says you!"

"If that is the level you've dropped to Lolly, I don't need to say anything at all…"

Clarice turned to look at her mother and raised a shapely eyebrow. "Yes dear…they're always like that…I've been told it's a twin thing…"

Clarice grinned. "Cool. Err…I mean…"

"You can use cool dear…Even I used it…which probably reduced the coolness factor considerably…"

"Well…you did wear that one boy's leather jacket…and all those letters too…And those really short skirts…" Penelope thoughtfully tapped her chin. "I'm sure we have pictures somewhere…"

Cecilia groaned. "Penny…I'm a mother!"

"Yes Cece…and once upon a time you were a teen terror who chewed gum and went into cars with boys…"

Cecilia felt the eyes of all her daughters upon her, their eyes both amused and amazed. "Penny…"

"What are you gonna do? Freeze me?"

"Don't tempt me!" Cece snapped.

Clarice grinned again. "I think it may just be a sister thing…"

The older women laughed. "You may just be right dear… I know my girls do it too…" Penny looked fondly at the heap of sleeping Halliwells, cuddling together on the couch.

"Where are Dad and Simon?" Charlotte looked around the room.

"I think they're setting up yet another bed…" Joyce winked.

"I can sleep on the couch…" Clarice began.

"No…you can't. We didn't bunk the girls up just so you'd sleep on the couch."

"I don't mind doubling up either…" Clarice gave her sister a look.

Joyce returned it. "We'll put you with Dawn and Phoebe…they need watching…"

Charlotte grinned. "Only could be worse if we added Celia…but she would never be separated from Buffy…"

Joyce yawned. "Well…I'm going to bed…"

Charlotte snorted. "Well at least you're honest enough not to say sleep…I mean I didn't believe Buffy when she told me, but you guys really must be like bunnies…"

Joyce turned a baleful eye on her sister. "Buffy told you what?"

"Errr…time for bed…Harry should be done in the bathroom now…" She waved goodnight and fled.

Clarice yawned and settled down. Her breathing slowed. Cecilia and Joyce shared a look.

"She's a bit like Simon…I don't think many hugs have come her way the last few years…" Joyce whispered.

"I hate to wake her…but she needs to be in a bed…and it might not be wise to put her with Dawn…I don't know what she'd do with Dawnie clinging to her…"

Joyce looked at her newly minted oldest sister. "For some reason I don't think she'd mind…"

Cecilia looked at Penelope, who nodded. "I agree with Joyce…it seems to me she's led a very lonely life."

"My poor baby…"

"Cece…you did everything you could. Now wake her up and tuck her in."

Clarice yawned awake when she was gently shaken. "Time to go to bed dear…"

"Hmmm? Mommy?"

"Yes Clarice. Mommy." There was a catch in Cecilia's voice. "But you're not sleeping on the couch…you're in with Dawn and Phoebe remember?" 

"Yeah…Ok…" Clarice rose and stretched, but not too much, and stumbled up the stairs, half asleep. She got into her nightshirt, feeling someone help her and crawled into bed with a little girl, who immediately turned and clung to her. Then both of them got tucked in and she felt a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Sleep well my beautiful baby…"

**End note:**

**As several of you (djhardim, war, PATM) noted Clarice is indeed Clarice Starling. We'll go into her AU background a little later. Suffice it to say she's been very lonely. I'm using the movie Clarice, and only the first movie and even that not completely. (It is AU after all…) To me Jodie Foster always will be Clarice Starling. I hope I managed to portray an older, slightly desperate and lonely Clarice with some accuracy. Without the more than a little icky relationship with Lecter…**

**Clarice and the Red Dragon Universe belong to Thomas Harris. I own nothing about her. I also do not own Charmed, Buffy or Angel. **


	31. Unknown relatives and money in the bank

**Author's note:**

_**A long chapter to end the weekend…the written one at any rate. We will be getting a bit more action again from now on. Family relations with lots of OC's are fun, but phew! I can do with a bit of Vampire slaying action…**__**Text between * still denotes thoughts**_

**Too ill to go to work and just well enough to write…so a few more updates than expected this week…**

**Also, has anyone else been having problems updating/accessing/answering reviews lately?**

**Reviews much appreciated!**

_Chapter 32__: Unknown relatives and money in the bank_

Jenny had sent her message to SoS expecting it to be a while before she got an answer. She was rather surprised when she received a message to come online immediately.

_Good evening Dategirl_

_**Heya Sos**_

_This is bad, where did you get it?_

_**What is it?**_

_A being called Eyghon, the Sleeper, or He Who Walks the Dead_

_**Walks the dead? What is he, a demonic dead dog walking service?**_

_No. A demon that inhabits the bodies of the unconscious or the dead. _

_**How can he be summoned?**_

_Depends on how powerful he is at the moment. He can enter the bodies of dead worshipers. When he's stronger, those of the sleeping.__ Where did you see the mark Dategirl?_

_**A friend had a picture of it**_

_On him?_

Jenny hesitated. She didn't know what sort of resources SoS had…She _liked_ Rupert. She liked Rupert a lot…

_**Tattooed on his arm**_

_You'll need to ask him how he got it…who else has it…and try and get them to do a Disavowal ritual. If they all got it at the same time or were members of the same Circle, they'll need to do it together._

_**What if he doesn't want to? **_

…_I think you know the answer to that Dategirl._

_**I need to think about this…**_

_Don't take too long…we can't have Eyghon walking around here…_

_**I'll let you know tomorrow?**_

_Very well…be very careful Dategirl._

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Clarice Starling woke slowly. Normally she started awake, but this morning was different. And she was not alone…soft breathing filled her ears, two people. The first was snoring, just a very little, the other was breathing very softly and was very close…and small. She looked down and saw the little girl and grinned. Her youngest niece…Dawn. The one she hadn't met because she'd fallen asleep before she even got there... Clarice yawned. She gently pulled the little girl closer and fell asleep again.

When she woke up the second time it was because the soft warmth of Dawn had gone. She opened her eyes to see two very wide blue ones.

"Good morning…you'd be Dawn…" She whispered.

"Yeah…and you're my Aunt Clarice?"

*I hope so…I think so…won't know until the test comes in…*

"We think so, yes."

"You look a bit like Simon…and like Aunt Arlene…" The little girl was thoughtful.

*Holy…that little girl sees way too much!* "Uh? Really?"

"Soooo…I guess that was what they wouldn't tell me last night…Simon's dad and Gran? And she was real young?"

Dawn was beginning to look distressed and Clarice grabbed her and hugged her. "Yes honey…but don't worry, we won't ever let anything happen to you!"

Dawn let out a little sob. "'kay."

Clarice sighed and held onto her for a while longer. To her surprise the girl did not move. After a bit she even fell asleep. It had been a long time since Clarice had felt such love and trust. She glanced at the rather crooked Bugs Bunny alarm clock and saw it was way too early to get up for a Sunday morning. Her cousin Phoebe was sleeping on the camp bed and Clarice soothed by the soft breathing, fell asleep again, Dawn tucked under her chin.

Joyce went to look in on her oldest sister, youngest cousin and youngest daughter when there had been no sound at nine thirty. She tiptoed out of the room a few seconds later to get her camera and her mother. Mom would never forgive her if she didn't get to see that scene in person.

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Jenny Calendar sighed. She'd been doing that an awful lot since last afternoon. She had absolutely no idea how to ask Rupert what the hell he'd been thinking getting himself tattooed with the mark of a demon…except maybe asking him why the hell he'd been stupid enough to get tattooed with the mark of a demon. And yeah, that was really going to work…She groaned. She'd been doing that a lot too.

She hadn't slept much and the little she had slept had been disturbed by dreams. Dreams of Rupert stalking her, Rupert stalking her with the face of a demon. She shivered and punched her pillow. *Why do all the men I fall for have to meddle with the bloody darkness! Bloody stupid idiots*

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Rupert Giles sat at his desk, gazing at the mark on his arm. Jenny had left minutes after seeing it. There was something fey about her, something magical. And he knew she knew the darkness that lay within the tattoo. He rose and took off his clothes, quickly washed and dressed again, not in tweed but in a carpenter shirt and fresh jeans. He walked into the late morning sunshine and got into his car, started the unwilling engine and drove off. He had a confession to make.

He stood before the ramshackle apartment building that Jenny lived in and looked at the peeling paint. He could smell the problems with the drains from here…why on earth did she live here? It may not be the best of apartments, but even his was more pleasant. He sighed and pushed open the door to the communal foyer, his nose wrinkling at the acrid smell inside. He walked up the concrete stairs to the first floor and knocked. He could tell by her handwriting in the note beneath the bell she had been very annoyed. 'Out of order' indeed…Jenny was a woman of passion, it showed in everything she did.

After a minute or so the door was opened by Jenny. Her hair was disheveled and she wore a simple cotton t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and flip flops. Not at all the well dressed, well groomed young lady of the night before. Her eyes widened in fear and she shook as she took a breath and he saw she was about to close the door in his face. He put his foot in and pushed the door open. Jenny stumbled back, up against the wall and looked at him with trepidation.

"Miss Calendar…Jenny…There are some things…I have to tell you about my misspent youth."

She let out the breath she had been holding. "A-and?"

"I won't hurt you...I…I did stupid things when I was young…And before, oh shove it." He took a step forward and kissed her very gently on the lips.

"You're a very beautiful and wonderful young woman…and before…anything happens…you should know why it wouldn't be wise…"

Jenny glared and poked a finger in his chest. "One: I'm the one who decides if anything happens! Two I've made my share of mistakes and 'wise' is not a word that's been associated with me very often. Three: Call that a kiss?"

She forcefully pushed him up against the other wall of the narrow corridor and kissed him, hard, forcing his mouth open, closed more by the shock of what was happening than any desire to keep it so, and didn't let him go for at least a minute.

"Now…we talk…c'mon English!" She grabbed his arm and led him into her small living room. He noted the window held open with a twist of paper as the sash was broken and shook his head. This really was a dump.

Jenny cleared the couch of the detritus of a morning of moping and made space for him. "So…talk."

Giles took a deep breath. "When I was young my father had a vision of what I should be…a destiny…one that I disagreed with. And I rebelled. Badly…running with a bad crowd does not begin to describe the utter stupidity of it. Cigarettes, booze, drugs…you name it, we did it…"

He took a deep breath. "And we messed with magic. Dark magic. Summoning demons. We…a friend of mine and I…we discovered a ritual to summon Eyghon in an old Grimoire…"

"Which one? The Gaudeamus? The Heresies of Gaius?"

"No…the Black Grimoire of Agostinus of Compostella…"

"The NEGRA? YOU GOT A RITUAL FROM THE NEGRA? TO _PLAY_ WITH?" Jenny's voice was stopped by Rupert's hand.

"Jenny…yes...we were incredibly stupid…we stole the book from a visiting collector…we used the spells in it to gather wealth, power, friends…enough to safeguard and fund our lifestyle…keep the bobbies from our trail…and then it all went pear shaped…we were doing a ritual to get Eyghon into a friend of ours…Randall…and it went wrong…Very wrong…we all would have died…but we managed to bind him…in Randall…but we couldn't exorcize it fast enough…Randall died."

"Ah…and then?"

"To most of us…it was a wake up call…we changed our lives…cleaned up our act if you will…and became upstanding citizens. But all this time…we know his darkness hangs over us Jenny…and that is why we can never…"

"Oh stop moaning Rupert…I sent a drawing of your tattoo to SoS…and he says that if you can get all of your friends together…we can perform a ritual of Disavowal."

"W-what?"

"Look…SoS…he knows stuff ok? If he says that there's a ritual…there's a ritual."

"Oh...God…I've got to call them! To be able to…oh it would be wonderful!" Giles looked as excited as a little boy.

"To what?" Jenny drew a pointless twirl on his chest and he swallowed.

"To err…live without the fear of him…of Eyghon…"

"Aha…I see you've got some sense then…soooo 'you name it'? Coke? Crack? Pot?"

Giles winced. "Yes."

"Sex?"

"Yes…that too…"

"Would've been a waste otherwise…" Jenny sniffed.

"Orgies and bacchanalia like you wouldn't believe…" Giles gazed reminiscently into the distance.

Jenny lifted an eyebrow. "Seriously?" *Holy…still waters and all…*

"Yes."

"So…you're very experienced?" She felt her heart thump in her chest as she asked.

"Err…Well I was…I've…held off from relationships since then…serious ones…so since then it was mostly, well relations for mutual pleasure…"

"Friends with benefits? You? English…you're just full of surprises…" She moved closer and flattened the hand that had been drawing pointless designs to lie on his chest.

"Yes…well…errr…"

Jenny rose. "Well then…You get into contact with your friends…I'll contact SoS…And after we get the whole mess straightened out…We'll see…where things go?" She suddenly felt uncertain. He was experienced…much more experienced than she'd thought…than she was…Hell she thought she was going after a near virgin and it turned out he'd had _orgies_…She silently prayed to the Goddess, hoping that this time, it would work out…

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Clarice woke up. Again. Dawn was sitting up next to her and rubbing her eyes and Phoebe was stretching and yawing. Cecilia was standing in the doorway, smiling.

"Good morning sleepy heads."

"Morning Gran." Good morning Aunt Cecilia."

Clarice looked at her hands. In the warm light of day the events of yesterday seemed far away. Would the woman who'd claimed her so enthusiastically yesterday still feel the same way? Did she herself? The DNA test wasn't in yet and it would take several weeks to get it. And yet…she felt an attraction, an attachment to this family…The bed moved beside her and she felt a finger smoothing out the wrinkle on her forehead that appeared when she thought.

"Don't worry Clarice…Everything will be fine…"

"But...what if A'hm… I'm not…" She corrected her acent

Cecilia looked stunned. "Oh honey…I'm quite certain no one else left a beautiful baby girl on the steps of the police station…you're mine…and after all the legal rigmarole is done…you'll know it for certain too…which considering Simon is stirring the pot, will be soon."

"Stirring the pot?"

"He's got people working on that DNA right now…"

"He does?"

"Clarice…Simon has been alone for a very long time…the chance that he might have a sister… Why do you think you were called by the Meier Institute Director of Operations? In the weekend?"

Clarice blinked and suddenly paled. "B-but…the Meier Institute…"

"Yes…Now get out of bed young lady…time to get into a shower and dressed. Breakfast is waiting."

"Yes mom." Clarice looked at her mother. "Why am I so…biddable? I was never this biddable even as a child?"

Cecilia grinned. "Ask your sister…the one who didn't say what power she has…"

"Joyce? What has Joyce got to do with it?"

"I'll let her tell you that…"

"_Mom!_" *I'm whining…at my mother…who I've not even known for a day…*

Cecilia ruffled her daughter's hair. "Just be patient…and talk to Joyce. You'll need to anyway…"

Clarice huffed and glared after he mother as she left. Phoebe and Dawn had slipped out to the bathroom during hte conversation and sighing she went looking for one as well.

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Joyce was in the kitchen when her oldest sister appeared, silently behind her, her hair still wet from her shower and a glint in her grey green eyes. "Mom says we should talk…"

Joyce gulped and dropped the orange she'd been peeling for the fruit salad. Clarice looked down at it. "And that to me means we should talk now…" She grabbed Joyce by the arm and dragged her off to the porch, sitting her down on the swing. Joyce's fingers were agitatedly wringing together.

"Well now…mom says that there's something you ought to tell me…"

"You're going to be mad at me…"

"Joyce…"

The younger woman…her sister…almost cowered. "Joyce…tell me…"

"I…My power…its called 'Mother'…it enhances the bonds of family…strengthens love, offers protection…makes things happen to increase the happiness of people that the person with he power loves…You have to understand it's not a conscious power…I can't control it…"

Clarice sat down beside her. "Holy...Cow…"

"Yes…I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I-I…it manipulates you…you're an FBI agent… You should've taken weeks, research, tests before you got here…I twisted you…I must have…"

Clarice barked out a short, bitter laugh. "Joy…do you know why I was in LA?"

"No?"

"On Friday I was told that I'd have to hand in my resignation before the end of the year…I drank myself into a stupor…I was only just awake when I got the call…I've got no family…what friends I had…they abandoned me when I wouldn't let go of my delusion…Why the hell do you think I rushed here? Even the _slimmest_ chance at having somebody...anybody…be there for me…" Clarice felt her tears start again and then Joyce wrapped her in an embrace.

"Easy sister mine…We're all here for you…"

Clarice took a deep breath. "But…I want to know why when mom tells me to do something, I do it…"

"Err…I don't think that's me…"

"What?"

"I think that's just because mom is really scary…" Joyce winked slightly and Clarice realized their mother was behind her, eavesdropping.

She grinned slightly. "Yeah…Simon mentioned that…He told me to watch my language or there would be soap…?"

"Oh yes…And I'm not entirely certain she wouldn't reach for the slipper if she thought we'd been naughty…"

"She sounds a right terror…"

"Clarice Brigid and Joyce Marie! There is _no_ chance I would spank my adult daughters! Or wash their mouths with soap. I count on them to act like responsible adults!"

Joyce grinned at her mother who suddenly looked sheepish.

"And _I'm_ supposed to be a right terror? Fooling your old mother like that?"

"Your not old mom…and you're two years younger even…Clarice? 'Ris? You alright?"

Clarice was pale and gulping in great big breaths, trying not to cry. "Y-yes…fine…" She looked up at her mother. "I-I have a second name? That's what the B. stands for?"

Cecilia sat down heavily. "You still have the blanket?

"C.B…we didn't know if it was a last name…or where it came from…"

"Well…I worked in a small shop in Virginia…I bought the blanket and was allowed to embroider it…I-I still have the receipt…"

"Oh…Mom? I-Is there a reason for Brigid?"

"She's the patron saint of babies…I figured…you needed all the help I could give you…"

Clarice leaned into her mother, feeling the older woman's arms go around her. "Thank you…"

Cecilia snorted. "It was the least I could do dear…Clarice? Have you thought about…your magic?"

"No…not really…It's not been at the forefront of my mind if you catch my drift…lots of other things to think about…"

"I can imagine dear…well there's lots of time."

"Okay…I think I should get something to eat…"

"Yes…we have a busy day ahead of us."

"Oh?" Joyce looked interested.

"The three P's want vengeance for yesterday's debacle…and have challenged your kids to a team contest…and have laid claim on 'cousin' Clarice to lead them...if she wants to?"

"Team challenge?"

Joyce snorted at her sister's expression. "The bodyguards are training our children…and yesterday Prue, Piper and Phoebe were defeated in epic Water pistol battle…But I can understand if you don't want to…"

Clarice gave her a look. "And why exactly are you and Charlotte not competing?"

"W-what?"

"If the children are in danger…so are you…and it won't do our baby sister any harm to join in!"

There was a splutter from behind them and Clarice tilted her head back, grinning. "Good morning 'Lolly."

"I'm not running around getting spritzed!" Charlotte objected from her place in the door.

"Of course you are dear…Celia will be ever so disappointed if you don't…now all we need is to convince Harry and Simon…" Cecilia grinned.

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"No." Simon crossed his arms. "I won't do it."

"But Simon…everybody else is…"

"Right…We got our three P's…and our own kids, who're four, but insist on adding Amy and Celia, and then Team Momster, which has three members as well…even if we split the kids into two teams, we're still outnumbered."

"Wha…you're not going to join because you'll be outnumbered?"" *Team Momster? We'll be discussing that one later Simon Coenraad Hendrick Meier!*

Simon exchanged a glance with Harry, who nodded firmly. "Yeah…we call in reinforcements…or we don't play."

Joyce picked at her lip. "Who?"

"Patrick of course."

Joyce looked at the teens Amy looked hopeful. Then her sisters. "Who's this Patrick?" Clarice asked.

"Amy's dad…he's the guy who rebuilt the house."

Clarice eyed Harry and Simon. "Well…an accountant and a CEO… I suppose you two desk jockeys need a bit of support…this ok with you?" She glanced at the younger generation. The Halliwell sisters nodded, as did the Johnson offspring and Amy.

Simon grinned. "Excellent…" He reached into his pocket for his mobile and dialed. "Patrick? We're on…"

Patrick Madison, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans arrived a few minutes later in his old truck. He'd lost a good deal of weight and regained a lot of his old muscle since Catherine's death and his experience with the Wizard's node. Buffy let out a low whistle. "Wow…Ames…your dad's been working out…"

Charlotte and Clarice looked slightly stunned as the tall, blonde man made his way over to them. He shook hands with Danielle first. "Mrs. Moritz…It's been too long…you look…good."

"So do you Mr. Madison…So do you." Danielle grinned at the attention the now quite buff man was getting from various females, including her shy little Willow. Until Amy rather pointedly elbowed her and Buffy and glared.

Joyce, as the lady of the house, effected the other introductions. Phoebe seemed rather impressed with Pat's biceps. Clarice eyed them as well. She took the man to the side for a talk.

"Marines?"

"Yes ma'am…Single tour."

"Ah…I thought I recognized the tattoo…I suppose Simon knew this before…"

"Yes Ma'am, the general was fully aware of my service, Ma'am!"

"General…"

"Yes ma'am. General Meier Ma'am."

"I see…and Harry?"

Patrick's eyes twinkled. "I believe the LT was in the Army, Ma'am."

"Aha…so three ex military men are taking on me and my sisters?"

"Yes ma'am…think we've got a chance?"

Clarice blinked. The man was _serious_? "Errr…I would assume so…"

"It's just…I've seen Buffy fight…and her mother…well lets just say that I don't fancy getting between her and her children…"

Clarice grinned. "Ah…don't worry…The teams will not compete at the same time…So…what rank did you reach?"

"Sergeant Ma'am."

"Well sergeant…if you ma'am me once more…I'll show you something Hannibal Lecter once did to a prison guard…"

Pat swallowed. "Okay…agent Starling?"

"Clarice."

"Okay…Clarice."

"Well…let's go and get active, shall we, Patrick?"

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"Simon…"

"Yes dear?"

"What are those?"

'These? Supersoakers dear."

"SIMON!"

"Just levelling the playing field love…"

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"Harry?"

"Hmmm?"

"I thought you were in accounting while you were in the Army?"

"Yes dear…and I went to bootcamp…and officer training. It's been years since I picked up a gun…I must admit this is quite fun!"

"Harry…you realize you're sleeping on the couch tonight?"

"Still beats bootcamp…"

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"Ames?"

"Yeah?"

"Where in hell did your dad learn to shoot?"

"The Marines."

"We're so dead…"

"Hey, _your_ dad brought the Supersoaker Xand!"

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Way cool the way he managed to get the drop on Celia though…"

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"Simon! Put me down this instant! Simon! Don't you dare!"

"Oh dear…Did dad just drop mom in the fountain?" Willow winced.

"Yup."

Yeppers."

"Yah."

"Think he's gonna be sleeping on the couch?

"Naah…she's drawn him in with her…errrr…..are they supposed to do that?"

"Oh man…those two…"

"Bunnies."

"Total bunnies."

"I'd say bucket of water time, but it's kinda redundant…Man I need brain bleach…again!"

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"Celia…have you seen your parents?" Joyce looked around. "We're ready for the next match…"

Celia blushed. "No." She shook her head vehemently. "No! I did not see my parents! I _did not_!" Celia rubbed her face as if to wipe out a memory.

Joyce nodded wisely. "Of course you didn't dear…"

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Clarice sat on the couch wearing Joyce's old robe, her hair still wet from the shower she'd taken after the afternoon of water filled fun. She hadn't laughed this much in years…Even if this all proved to be a drunken dream…or not true...she'd have a few good memories at least. She felt a little sad when she remembered how her sisters…god she hoped they were…had been kissed by their respective partners.

Charlotte sat down next to her, also in a robe, rubbing her hair with a towel. "That was fun. Wet, but fun."

"Certainly looked like you and Harry were having fun…"

"Oh haha. And like you weren't eying the sarge for all you were worth…"

"Lolly…he's younger than me…what would he want with me?"

Charlotte gave her an incredulous look. "You serious? 'Ris…have you looked in the mirror lately?"

"Yes? And?"

"Oh come off it 'Ris! You're gorgeous!"

"Yeah…guys come knocking down my door…" Clarice said bitterly.

"You're also as intimidating as he..ck"

Clarice grinned. "Mom come in?" She whispered.

"Charlotte nodded. "I mean c'mon 'Ris! You're…well…you're you!"

"Gee…that's helpful…"

"Clarice…I'm sure that there's someone out there for you…"

Clarice looked up to see her mother, impeccably dressed in a blue sundress, standing in the arc to te living room.

"Yeah…sure mom…"

"Clarice…This might sound wrong and I certainly hope it won't take as long…but you found me…"

Clarice blinked. "Yeah…yeah that's true."

"And Lolly is right. You are beautiful…" Cecilia smiled. There was as sudden shriek from above.

"Simon! Stop that!" Joyce dissolved into giggles and a door closed with a bang.

Cecilia sighed, Charlotte rolled her eyes and Clarice manfully contained a snigger. "You'd think that they'd had enough, after that scene in the fountain…"

"Bunnies." Clarice said, repeating Willow's words.

"Oh yeah. Total Bunnies." Charlotte grinned.

Clarice merely went into the kitchen. But her shoulders shook rather suspiciously.

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The Halliwells, who had the furthest to go, had to leave first.

"You three take care of my sister now, do you hear?"

"Yes Aunt Cecilia…"

"And drive carefully…"

"Yes Grams…"

"I hope to see you again soon…"

"Sure Joyce…you take care!"

"Bye Roomie!" Phoebe hugged Dawn who enthusiastically returned it. This was the signal for general hugging and kissing.

"EEEEE! PRUE!" Prue grinned as Buffy squealed.

"Vengeance, cousin mine, is best served cold…"

Buffy laughed through her glare. "Well…yeah…but you better watch you back Prudence…Next time I see you…we'll see how well you can stand up to me!" She grinned and hugged Prue again. "I'll miss you…"

Prue realized that she'd miss her new cousins too…after two days of being…young again...she felt better than she had in weeks…months. It was a good feeling…young. "I'll miss you too Buffy…please…be _very_ careful out there, ok?"

" "kay. Prue…if you choose to you know…be very careful too…"

"Yeah…I'll let you know."

"By Willow."

"By Piper…take care."

"I will."

Willow looked around and then whispered into Piper's ear. "Hope you get a nice boyfriend soon…"

Piper grinned. "Yeah…you too."

Willow blushed.

Xander was looking on with trepidation as the three Halliwell sisters came nearer. "Now ladies…"

Prue grinned. "Yeeees?"

"There's no need for this…"

"We disagree Xander…there is…" Piper grabbed him and gave him a hug, as did Phoebe.

Prue grinned at his stunned face. "What Xand? You were expecting something different? Don't worry…I'll have my vengeance later…"

Xander shuddered, but he did give Prue a bone crushing hug. "Be careful cousin."

"We will, you too Xander…"

Cece hugged Penny. "Now promise me you'll see a doctor as soon as you get home…Simon promises he'll have the paperwork ready so you'll be insured…"

Penny rolled her eyes. "Yes Cece…"

"And don't distract Oleg while he's driving…"

"_Cece!"_

"Well he is a handsome man…"

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Clarice stood looking after the departing cars. Cecilia put an arm around her shoulder. "How are you honey?"

"What if I'm not your daughter?" Clarice spoke her fear without thinking and she felt the woman she now so dearly hoped was her mother stiffen.

"Clarice Brigid! If you were thirty years younger I'd take my slipper to your backside! And I'm sorely tempted even now!"

Clarice blushed. "_Mom!_"

Cecilia gave her a shake and a grin. "And don't you forget it! And I repeat I doubt very much that anyone else left their beautiful girl on the steps of that police station…so no more senseless doubts!"

Clarice bit her lip. "Yeah…but…I won't see you again…"

"Oh love…its less than two hours drive to San Diego…That's hardly the world…"

"So I can…" Clarice sound hopeful.

"As long as you call ahead so I can get a bedroom ready and food in the house…you're always welcome…"

Clarice swallowed. "And if…"

"And if there's anything wrong you just come by…no call needed…that's just padding dear…just me wanting to get your favourite foods in the closet…" Suddenly she looked sad. "I don't even know what they are yet…"

Clarice smiled a bit embarrassed. "Well…your pasta certainly ranks near the top of the list…"

Cecilia gave her a sharp look. "Clarice…can you cook?"

Clarice looked at her feet. "Not very well…"

"Do you want me to teach you?"

"Would you?" Clarice looked hopeful.

"Oh little one…I'd love to…Come on inside. If we stay here any longer Dawnie will get a stiff butt up there on the roof listening to us."

There was an 'eep' and a scramble and then Dawn had entered her mother's bedroom again, through the window. Clarice giggled. "Oh…she's just like me…a curious…"

"Curious little monkey, yes." Cecilia grinned at her eldest, who merely rolled her eyes.

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Simon sat down next to Clarice while Danielle packed her bags, helped by Willow and Dawn. The Special Agent had finished packing in ten minutes, and that had included double checking all the closets.

"Thank you for offering to drive her home Clarice…I really appreciate it."

"It's on my way, not a problem…and she is your mother…big brother ."

"Yes…about that…"

Clarice stiffened. "What?"

"Stipend…houses…cars, seat on the board…You might want to consider becoming a patroness of a charity or two."

Clarice gulped. "W-what?"

"Clarice…you're my sister…that makes you a part of the Meier family…and that comes with a lot of perks and some responsibilities."

"You mean…"

"You're rich. Wealthy. Loaded." Simon smirked.

"Oh…I thought that was what you meant…But…"

"You thought I wouldn't share? Clarice…I'll be honest…if you start dipping into the principal…we'll have words…but every Meier of the first generation has the right to an annual stipend."

"So…how much are we talking about…in a round number? Fifty thousand? A hundred?"

Simon gave her a look. "I settled a million on each of the kids from this year's stipend alone…Don't tell Joyce that by the way…"

Clarice swallowed. "Simon…I-I…"

"Its money Clarice…we have lots of it…the annuities for the family really don't touch the real wealth." He shrugged. "Most of the profit goes to charities…the Houses and the Institute and the Free Hospitals…" He gave her a look. "We'll need to talk about that…I'm no longer the only Meier, though by my father's will I am the heir and controlling Chairman of the Meier family Trust…"

Clarice glared. "Do you honestly think I'd break up the Meier Houses merely for personal gain?"

"Of course not, that's not what I meant…but…Clarice…well…you know what it's like, like I never will…I could really use your help…"

"You want _help_?"

"Micheala runs the Institute very well…but, well, I don't think she'd mind if you took an interest…I do need to spend a lot of time running the Trust."

"Simon…Are you headhunting me?"

"No…well…not really…I haven't even offered you a salary yet…" He grinned. "How much do you want to make you leave the FBI? Take a sabbatical? We'll get you a short term medical discharge…everybody will buy that after the things you've been through…and then hit them with Number One…Get you put in charge of Special Operations West Coast…"

"Special Operations West Coast? What's that?"

"Liaison between the FBI and the Covens of the Concordat…It's never been anyone from the Old Families before…Owen Lassiter will be over the moon…"

"Owen Lassiter…Simon...are you on fist name terms with the President?"

"Clarice…if you want to go public with this…and it is entirely up to you and Cecilia…You'll be on first name terms with _everybody_…"

"The Queen?"

Simon laughed. "Ah…got me there…first name terms with everybody in our age bracket?"

"_Our_ age bracket Simon? Last I checked you were a dozen years older than me…" Clarice lifted an eyebrow and Simon sighed.

"I'm beginning to see the downside to this whole sibling thing…"

They heard noises on the basement stairs and Xander came up carrying Danielle's bag.

"I'm fine Willow…the journey will not overtire me…and yes I'll go and find a doctor as soon as I get to LA..."

Willow blushed as her grandmother good-naturedly chided her.

"I'm sorry…I just…"

"Worry…I know dear…It will be fine. I'm certain the Spirit of the Place meant me no harm…and possibly all good. Now, make certain you sleep enough…teen age girls need their sleep. So do teenage boys."

Xander stowed Danielle's bag while Willow hugged her, then did the same. Buffy and Dawn followed and then Amy, then Joyce and Simon.

Joyce hugged Charlotte and Buffy swung a squealing Celia around, Harry hugged Dawn and exchanged manly handshakes with Simon and Xander as well as Patrick.

Clarice stood watching, biting her lip until her mother came up to her. "You don't have to wait dear…just join in." Clarice blinked. Cecilia rolled her eyes. "No one will mind silly girl. Go on."

Timidly, Clarice did.

Clarice stood in her mother's arms for several minutes before she had the strength to break away. No one remarked on it; or the extra along hugs she gave everyone else.

Simon closed the door behind his sister and watched as she drove off with the only mother he'd ever known with a strangely neutral expression on his face. Joyce put her arm through his and smiled. "Never had family to see off before, love?"

"None that I cared about…My parents certainly never bothered to see me off…"

"Well, my parents are leaving…I think you need to do some 'I promise I'll take care of her speech' for dad…"

Simon smirked. "I can do that…Do you think the Taming of the Shrew will make an impression?"

Joyce thumped his arm and guided him away.

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The house was oddly silent and empty with only two adults and four teens in it. Joyce sat down wearily. "Well…that was some weekend…"

"Yes."

"Simon…that thing you did for Danielle and Penelope…did that affect you?"

"I didn't do it so much as enable it I think…and if it did, very little."

Joyce looked disappointed. "Ah…I see."

"What you were hoping for a younger man? More stamina perhaps?" Simon teased.

"No…just…remember that conversation we had when we first met?"

"We talked about a great many things…"

"About you not wanting children…"

"Joyce…I'm sorry…I-I admit…I checked. I'm still infertile."

"I suppose it's for the best…neither of us is getting any younger…"

"Yes."

"Yes."

She cuddled into him and sighed.

**End note:**

**I hope the last few chapters weren't too relationship intensive. As the AU veers from the straight and narrow there will be more action sequences needed, but until then, please remember most of this is character driven! **


	32. Purple rain and talent show try outs

**Author's Note: **

**I'm trying to limit the length of the chapters to make for easier reading, but I'm not sure if people prefer that. Can people let me know what they find more pleasant: Longer or shorter chapters? **

**Thanks for the recommendations: Jewel, rexcalon.**

**Everybody thanks for reviewing, it's much appreciated and please continue!**

_Chapter 33: Purple Rain and Talent Show try outs_

On Monday morning Willow discovered a pink rose and an eight of Edam wrapped in paper and embroidered cloth with little roses on her Comp Sci desk the first period. A neatly folded sheet with Burn's _My love is like a red, red rose_ inscribed upon itwas underneath.

She was so excited she barely paid attention to her work, only managing the basics of the assignment set. This also meant that Buffy, Xander and Amy suffered some delay in finishing theirs, but none of them seemed to mind. Miss Calendar seemed preoccupied, but amused by Willow's antics. An unknown person with the moniker Broken_tree tried to get into contact with the Slayerettes, but they all, mindful of the Moloch disaster, deleted the message.

Buffy grinned at Dave who ducked into his own cubbyhole and avoided her eyes. Willow sniffed her rose and nibbled her cheese all morning long.

The afternoon was disturbed by a Hrackesh demon that felt an urgent need to disembowel dogs, cats and other small animals and which Giles insisted they slay despite the fact that it was probably not dangerous to humans.

The problem according to Giles being that Hrackesh were actually too stupid to discern what they were disembowelling until they tasted it. This meant skipping classes, which though not a great chore, might cause problems later, both with school and parents.

And it was, in Giles' words, bloody hot, unseasonably hot for the time of year. The only good thing was that the Hrackesh was also too stupid to hide very effectively, so they found it relatively quickly, at the centre of the area where most of the pet disappearances had been taking place. It was lying outside the dog kennel of a rather dilapidated house with an overgrown, fenced in yard, quite near Amy's home, stirring and burping in its sleep. Every belch rattled the wire of the kennel door, which stood broken open.

"That is a demon?" Buffy asked in disbelief.

Willow looked from the photocopy Giles had made and back at the shaggy, purple haired, smelly thing dripping mucus from its nose, mouth and occasionally hair.

"I-I think so…"

Amy's face twisted in disgust. "Well unless someone has been doing really weird experiments on cats…"

Xander grinned. "Oh, I don't know…it might be a…a really large Maine Coon with a cold; that erm… fell into the sewers…beneath a paint factory…"

The three girls gave him a look. Willow sighed. "It's the demon…Buffy?"

Buffy gave the redhead a look. "This shirt is new…"

Xander shrugged. "Then take it off."

"XANDER!" The three girls chorused.

Xander winced. "H-Hey!I-I can turn my back…"

Buffy sighed. "We'll just have to hit Giles for the clothing credit card…Dammit, all I brought is a stake…"

"Why didn't Giles warn us about this thing being all…icky? Willow demanded.

"I don't know, he seemed preoccupied…as if his mind was on other things." Buffy answered thoughtfully.

Amy blinked. "Ummm…Isn't he supposed to be like…always focused on defeating these things?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Well I have to be ever vigilant…Maybe that allows him to slack off or something." She closed in on the beast, stake at the ready, a look of revulsion on her face. She poked it with a foot as it lay snoring.

The Hrackesh demon moved like greasy purple lightning and jumped her, its teeth ripping through Buffy's shirt, barely missing her stomach as the Slayer dodged it. Purple goop slavered from its jaws and struck her jeans and shoes.

Buffy looked down at her torn shirt, the goop covering her shoes and globbing down her trousers. She growled in the back of her throat and the Slayer attacked, driving her stake deep into the purple thing's skull. It squeaked, jumped up in the air, and then fell down flat on its stomach, all four legs sticking out in different directions.

And then it exploded into blobs of purple mucus, covering all four teens in blue purple goo and whatever it was that it had been eating.

The Fearsome Foursome was not amused.

Amy looked down at her once pristine blue t-shirt and gagged. "Oh god…that's a dog's nose! There's a dog's nose on my shirt!"

"Cat ear! Cat ear!" Buffy held the offending anatomical specimen by an ear tip, pale as a sheet and swallowing heavily.

Willow was on her knees, vomiting and Xander was holding her hair, even though it was already covered in slime and mucus.

Amy flicked bits of dog off herself and gagged. "Okay guys…Let's go to my place and wash this stuff off…Oh yuck!"

The others nodded and followed her home. The goo resisted warm water, merely becoming oily and gelled under cold water. Soap made it change colour to green and smell like three days old offal. Willow vomited twice more, Amy once and Buffy gagged. Xander seemed strangely unaffected, but that might have had to do with the fact his nose was hit by purple goop and his sense of smell was gone. Finally in desperation Buffy called Giles but got no answer. That left only one other option.

Willow drew the short straw. She nervously dialled the number. The phone was picked up on the first ring.

"Willow? Are you alright?" Simon's worried voice made Willow both feel warm and anxious.

"Ummm…dad…you know…umm, how we talked about not skipping school to hunt demons unless it was necessary…"

"Yes…" Willow winced. *Does he have to sound quite so…ironic?*

"Well…ummmm….there's this demon you see…eating cats and dogs…"

"Probably a Hrackesh. They're utterly harmless to humans unless provoked. Quite interesting really. The Romanians are thinking of using some to control the numbers of strays in the country."

Willow sighed. *Sometimes dad really is too much like Giles…hello useless information!*

"So they offer quite good money for them, you can lure one into a cage and feed it cat food…I believe the current rate is seven thousand dollars, if delivered to the Romanian embassy alive and more or less intact."

Willow spluttered. "Seven thousand…those purple goop things are worth seven thousand dollars?"

"Yes…Willow…what exactly have you been doing this afternoon?"

"Welll…ummm…Giles told us to go deal with it…and ummm…we may sorta have skipped afternoon class…And Buffy put a stake through its head…and now ummm…"

There was a snort from the other side. "A stake? A wooden stake? To kill a Hrackesh?" He started laughing.

Willow growled. "DAD! We're covered in scummy oily yellow stinky stuff! Could you stop laughing and m-maybe help?" She noted that her growl had become distinctly weepy and quavery near the end of the sentence.

Simon sighed. "Where are you?"

"We're at Amy's…"

"Very well…I'll need to pick up some things, and then I'll be by. It'll be half an hour, maybe a bit longer."

"Thanks Dad!"

"Oh, don't thank me yet young lady…your mother and I will be having words with the lot of you…" He hung up.

Willow looked at the phone in trepidation. "Oh sugar."

Buffy worried her lips with her teeth. "Not good?"

"I think he knows how to get rid of the muck…but definite stern parental talking to…" Buffy winced, as did Xander. Amy looked unworried. It wasn't as if they were _her_ parents after all…

She turned to Buffy. "And if we'd caught the Hrackesh, w-we could've sold it for seven thousand dollars! To the Romanians!"

The four looked at each other. "Seven thousand…wow." Xander voiced the thought of all four. "That's …seventeen-hundred and fifty each…any more of those purple monsters out there?"

They sat on the grass outside the Madison home, waiting for Simon. Willow and Amy were developing a rash, Xander noted that his eyes were swelling shut and Buffy kept sneezing. They were rather relieved to see the old Volvo pull up. It was towing a trailer. Simon got out of the car and walked up to the gate, stopped outside it, grimacing as he sniffed the air.

"Well…that smell brings back memories. There's seats in the trailer."

Willow rose, arms, crossed, glaring at him. "I'm not getting in the trailer!"

Simon shrugged. "You're welcome to walk…"

Glaring at Simon who carefully was not smiling, the four got into the trailer. It was canvas covered and two benches were at the sides, with makeshift belts nailed to them. Simon drove them home carefully. He turned into Revello Drive and up the driveway. Joyce stood waiting in the door, a stern expression on her face that changed into amused disgust as she smelled and saw her truant children.

"Well…the fearless Hrackesh hunters have returned victorious." Simon spoke lightly, trying to hide his grin.

Joyce succeeded better. "I see…well I've prepared what you wanted…but I hope you brought more olive oil…were all out now."

Simon grinned broadly, unable to contain his mirth. The four teens glared at him. Joyce cleared her throat. "You lot are just very luck that Monday's a slow day at the gallery…otherwise I'd have let you all sit in the garden until I came home and then mixed up this batch of whatever it is…"

Simon smiled and kissed her. "You know very well that it's a natural soap love." He turned to the children.

"There's four showers and bathrooms in this house…get in there, put all your clothes in the bin bags that are there and seal them tightly…rub yourselves down with the fluid in the glass bottles and scrape it off with the wooden strigils…"

"Stri whats?" Buffy was the one to ask but all the others looked equally confused.

"Scrapers. You'll recognize them when you see them." Joyce spoke dryly. "I'll be on hand to help you girls with your backs…Simon can help Xander." She sighed. "There's a bar of my natural jasmine soap in each bathroom…use it on your hair as well…"

Simon spoke again. "And I've got some lotion I made that you'll have to rub on, all over. _Don't_, whatever you do, use anything other than the oil-soap from the glass bottle and the Jasmine soap. No synthetic oils or shampoo. Understood?"

The four nodded and quickly left for the bathrooms.

Dawn was directed to keep out of the dining room when she came home by Simon. Simon was burning something in the back yard that looked like shoes and clothes and her mom was in the dining room with her siblings and Amy. It did not take a genius to figure out her sibs had done something to earn parental ire. She settled into her bedroom to work on the Rangers' Patrols for the upcoming week. Cyndi Blaisdell had been ill the week before and Jackie Brody and Hilary Vernon had been ambushed by Kit and almost overpowered until Janice, Felicity and Melody and Dawn herself had shown up. That had been too close…

Joyce sat looking at the teenagers, who in turn looked at the table. "Can you four explain to me exactly why you skipped school?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Demon mom…"

"Mostly harmless demon, Buffy. Unless they're disturbed while sleeping. Why on earth were you in such a hurry? And why all four of you? I seem to recall only one of you is the vampire Slayer?"

"Giles told us it needed to be killed quickly…" Willow tried.

"Well if that was the case why didn't he give you the copper knife to kill it with? Simon told me they just melt into a puddle if you use that…you can kill them easily, it's the exploding afterwards that's the problem."

"Wait…you think Giles knew that?"

Joyce shrugged. "Simon says' its common knowledge…However…that is not the point. The point is you skipped class…without telling me or Simon and to deal with a demon which could hardly be described as dangerous…other than to dogs and cats…now Simon spoke with your father when he borrowed his trailer from the building site Amy…" Amy swallowed apparently parental ire would not be dodged; Joyce gave her a stern look and continued. "And he will coordinate his punishment with us."

Amy swore. "Ah shi…" Joyce's look made her wilt and she shut her mouth before she finished the four letter word. "Sorry Ms. Summers…"

"However….you can begin by asking Dr. Giles tomorrow what he was thinking…sending you out like that, unprepared and unnecessarily hasty."

"Yes mom." Buffy nodded and sighed. *Well at least Giles is in trouble too…*

The only good thing, as Amy pointed out later, when they'd eaten dinner, was that the Hrackesh had eaten the Camperman's huge Doberman, Mitzy.

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Jenny Calendar furtively entered the library and then the library office. "Did you get them to leave?"

"Y-Yes. I sent them after a Hrackesh…"

Jenny nodded, relieved. "Well at least we won't have them stumbling in on us." She looked thoughtful. "You _did_ tell them about the copper knife?"

"It's common knowledge. I told Buffy during one of our regular demon sessions." Giles shrugged. "Tomorrow I can send them after a Lirkham….I've got a Prahnam for the day after that. But eventually they will find out."

"Yeah…Rupert…we _still_ need to agree on what were going to do…"

"Die of embarrassment?" *Preferably _before_ we're embarrassed…*

"Well, that too…But Rupert…we have to do something…and I'm sure as hell not going to tap!"

Giles had an odd glint in his eye. "Tap…stockings…top hat…"

Jenny thumped his arm. "Keep your mind on the problem, Rupert…" She looked at her watch…I suppose it is time of the first audition…"

Rupert and Jenny groaned as the auditions started. The line up was not promising…a ballet group, led by Emily Djiemanowicz, pretty good herself but the others were more enthusiastic than skilled…A really bad trombonist…a small band of woodwinds and brass who apparently had kicked out said trombonist and showed at least the ability to play, if not mastery of, their instruments. A tuba player who wanted to do a solo version of Beethoven's fifth symphony, two stand up comedians seven singers (including Cordelia Chase , if her performance could be called singing) a magician as well as an animal trainer with menagerie (Including a rabbit, a ferret and for some strange reason a hamster with an eyepatch) and a ventriloquist. (Who apparently had the same native talent at his chosen performance as the hamster had for tapdancing.)

Presently Cordelia was singing the second of the possible songs she was considering singing and Jenny was wincing. Rupert himself had prepared by using some of the hard wax he kept for some of his leather bound books to stuff his ears.

"CAN YOUOEOEOEOE FEEELLL TEHH LUVVEE TOONIGHTT!" Cordelia warbled, happily unaware of the true horror that was her voice. Harmony was looking on, a few feet away vacant eyed, chewing gum and standing still. Both Rupert and Jenny were quietly convinced that any other options were far beyond the oldest Kendall girl.

There was a creak from above and one of the great overhead lights started to move and then fall. To Rupert's surprise it was Harmony who reacted, pushing off hard with both legs and striking Cordelia in her side, pushing her away from the falling light. The two girls ended up landing in a flurry of limbs.

Rupert and Jenny hastened to the stage where the two girls were rising, looking rather shaken, helped by various other hopeful thespians and musicians.

"You ok Cordy?"

"Yeah…thanks Harm…"

"You're welcome…oh shucks."

"What?"

"I swallowed my gum…"

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On Tuesday a slightly pinker rose, a Shakespeare sonnet and another eighth of cheese lay on Willow's desk in history. This caused much amusement in class. Mr. Smithson, the history teacher kept winking at Willow and Willow kept blushing, but quite happily, nibbled her cheese and smelled her rose.

Buffy had been less amused to be directed, by a note, not even in person, to go and slay a Lirkham demon in the woods beyond Sunnydale elementary. And Giles seemed to be avoiding her. He wasn't in the library, which was very odd.

Buffy was the one who spotted Emily hanging up the poster. It shouted in big green and yellow letters: _**Talent Show!**_ _Sign up with Mr. Giles in the library or the list right here!_ The desperately worded sign made it clear to Buffy that the number of people willing to embarrass themselves in front of their schoolmates was as vast here as it had been at Hemery. As in non existent. It also explained why Giles was distracted and why he'd wanted them out of the way…

She waved over Xander, Willow and Amy. All three read the poster, and all three glared.

Willow took out her phone and held out a hand to Buffy. "Can I have that paper Giles left?"

Buffy nodded and dug it out of her bag. Willow dialled. "Dad? Willow, no problems a quick question…can you tell me what a Lirkham demon does…" She listened for a bit her face became more and more fierce. There was also an occasional "yuck." After a few minutes she hung up, exchanging goodbyes.

"It hunts small animals such as voles, the largest thing they eat is raccoons. The only really weird thing is that they need to…erm…_impregnate_ Billy goats to…ermm…bear their young. Utterly harmless, accept on an ecological level. There's a pride of them that lives in Central Park apparently."

"Billy goats?" Xander looked a bit sick.

"Yeah…" Willow didn't look very happy about it either.

"He's been distracting us…" Buffy said in a cold voice.

Willow was the one to express the general displeasure. "Why that sneaky poop head!"

Xander scowled blackly at the bright letters. "I couldn't agree more Wills…I say we go visit the Librarian…"

Amy looked at her fingernails. "Does anyone else think this will be sufficient punishment? She motioned to the poster with her head.

"No. He needs to suffer!" Buffy was adamant. Willow and Xander nodded.

Amy grinned fiercely. "Good…we're all in agreement then. I suggest we let him think he got away with it…and then we surprise him this afternoon in the theatre."

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The theatre was filled with noise. Apparently there _were _masochists who wanted to show the world how bad they were at many different things.

Giles was sitting, staring at the stage and wincing as Cordelia Chase tried to wring out every last bit of musicality from her second choice, this time with possibly added special effects. The problem being Cordelia still had the singing abilities of a duck on PCP. Harmony once again was standing several feet away, once again chewing gum.

Jenny Calendar sat next to Giles, gazing at a clipboard. The four teens snuck up on them and listened in on their conversation.

"I'm not going to sing '_The white cliffs of Dover'_ Rupert! And it's not a duet anyway."

Jenny Calendar's voice was clear and obviously annoyed; Rupert Giles' murmured response was unheard, even by Buffy.

"NO! Playing the guitar is not enough…And you'd probably sit behind the curtain." There was moment's silence. The teens strained their ears "Have you spoken to your White Hats yet about the Lirkham?"

"No, I expected her…them after the third period, but I left a note in Buffy's locker…I expect she just took it as an instruction and left. I'll see her tomorrow. I'll debrief and instruct them on the Frashow then."

"J-just get them out of here…I mean its bad enough that Willow…"

"Yes."

"Yes."

To everybody's surprise it was Willow who spoke in false cheery tones. "I've got the _perfect_ song for the two of you…"

The adults slewed round in shock. Willow continued speaking smiling happily. "And you'd better perform it, 'cause otherwise we'll tell mom you set the whole Hrackesh thing up…and that it wasn't just a mistake…"

Giles and Miss Calendar had turned an interesting shade of red.

"You'll sing a very nice duet…in front of the curtain…won't you Giles?" Willow's sweet smile was utterly terrifying.

Giles gulped and nodded. Jenny gave her pupil a frightened look.

"W-what…"

"Disney…_'It's a whole new World'_. From Aladdin."

Jenny swallowed. "B-but…that's a…"

Buffy chuckled. "A love song…"

Giles winced. "We can't! In front of the entire school? We'll be…"

Willow grinned evilly. "Just…reverse the parts and use technology…Maybe if you use enough humour…people will _forget_…the meaning of the song."

Xander cleared his throat. "For self protection."

Giles groaned. "We're doomed…"

"Well I don't know about that…obviously show biz is in your blood…" Amy drawled.

Buffy drew in a breath. "Yeah, I mean…Just look at the great producer! And his lovely assistant…"

They sat down around the pair, smirking and Miss Calendar actually growled.

Xander grinned. "You know, I really had to see this to believe it. Show business suits the two of you…I can see it now…the slinky dress…the tux…"

Giles gave him a withering look which the teens cheerfully ignored. "Oh, you lot….Just…"

Buffy smiled maliciously obviously ready to milk her Watcher's discomfort as much as possible. "The school talent show. How ever did you two finagle such a primo assignment? I mean, it's almost as good as a Hrackesh hunt…without a copper knife…"

Giles and Jenny flushed and the four teens glowered. Buffy tapped her chin. "No, seriously…how or why?" She gestured around the theatre.

Giles answered repressively. "Our new Führer, Mr. Snyder. Mm. He thought it would behoove me to have more contact with the students. I did try to explain that my vocational choice of librarian

was a deliberate attempt to minimize said contact, but, uh, he would have none of it."

Willow chipped in happily, munching a bit of cheese she'd fished from her bag. "I think they call 'em 'principals' now."

Amy smiled angelically at Miss Calendar. "And you Miss Calendar? How did you get into this?"

Miss Calendar growled again. "It's all Eng….Mr. Giles fault…If he'd actually done some of his student-staff hours in his contract…Snyder might have had only one candidate and I'd have had fair grounds of refusal…"

Giles gave her an indignant look. "The same goes for you! It's not my fault computer classes don't actually count as extra curricular activities! Besides which I-I don't see you leading band practice! Or the school ballet class! O-or the girls' softball team… "

Jenny leaned forward, her face almost in his. "It's the fault of all the old fashioned, annoying chauvinist Luddite idiots like you…that in this case you're not actively involved is just coincidence!"

Buffy snickered at her watcher's cornered expression. "Giles, unto every generation is born one…with his lovely assistant… who must run the annual talentless show. You cannot escape your destiny." She winked.

Giles gave her an irritated glare. "I knew you would react this way…this is the reason for the Hrackesh demon…I mean if you had any decency you'd have signed up or done something to help…But I knew you'd just gloat…"

Jenny nodded in affirmation, looking at Willow who beatifically smiled back at her. Jenny scowled at her favourite pupil. "Programmed the lights and sound…Done something!"

Buffy and the others shared looks, trying to contain their mirth.

Buffy leaned back in the chipped wooden seat. "Nah! I think I'll take on your traditional role... and watch!"

Xander grinned. "And mock!"

"And laugh!" Amy chimed in.

"And derogate…in a Victorian way…" Willow winked evilly at the two and the staff members blushed.

The children laughed.

Buffy rose, carefully wiping some imagined dust of the chipped laminated wood of the chair. "O-kay. I think maybe we better leave our Mr. Giles and Miss Calendar to this business they call a show…"

The four giggling teens walked back up the aisle. Principal Snyder stood waiting for them, looking impassive.

Buffy smiled brightly if a bit fearfully. "Principal Snyder!"

Giles and Jenny turned round, their gazes meeting and their mouth quirking in amusement. At least some revenge would be had…even if it was enacted by the Troll Führer…

Snyder's face was set in a careful mask. "So. We think school events are stupid, and we think authority figures are to be made fun of."

Buffy swallowed heavily. "No! No, we don't. U-unless you do." Both Willow and Amy elbowed her in the side and she whuffed as her breath was expelled.

Snyder seemed unaware of the byplay." And we think our afternoon classes are optional. All of you left campus yesterday."

Buffy blurted out her answer before thinking about it. "Yeah, but we were fighting a demon..." She shut up as another two elbows lodged below her ribcage.

Snyder suddenly looked interested. "Fighting?"

Buffy shook her head vehemently. "No! Not fighting."

Xander chimed in. "No, we, uh, left to _avoid_ fighting."

Snyder gave him a look and Xander shut up. "Real anti-social types. You need to integrate into this school, people." He crossed his arms. "I think I just found four eager new participants for the talent show."

Buffy managed to stammer out an answer. "What?"

Xander held up his hands in a warding gesture. "No!"

Willow almost dropped her cheese and gave him her best wide eyed innocent doe look. "Please?"

Amy merely groaned and buried her face in her hands.

Snyder seemed immune to their collective dismay. "I've been watching you kids. Always getting into one scrape or another."

Buffy tried once more. "Well, we're really, really sorry, but about the talent show, pleeease, you can't make us..."

Snyder grinned. "Oh, you see…I called your mother…lovely woman…she was aware you'd skipped classes…and I told her I was afraid you weren't integrating very well into school society…She asked if there were any social activities you could participate in…"

Buffy swallowed heavily. Willow paled, Xander looked at the little man with wide eyes and Amy merely groaned behind her hands again.

Snyder continued. "And I suggested the talent show…she seemed quite interested in seeing her _babies_ perform."

All four teens winced, Amy in sympathy, the others in embarrassment, as they could hear Joyce say the words.

Snyder walked toward the stage, past the shocked teens.

Xander found his voice. "Can I just mention that detention is a time-honored form of punishment?"

Buffy nodded vigorously in agreement. Snyder gave them a cool look. "Oh…but that would interfere with your _mother's_ plans for punishment…"

All four teens winced. Snyder nodded in satisfaction "It gives me great joy to see such deep respect for parental authority…I know the four of you will come up with a wonderful act for the school to watch. And mock. And laugh. At…" He glanced at Willow in puzzlement, uncertain what her remarks to Giles and Calendar had meant. He continued down to the stage.

The four teens huddled in seats at the top of the theatre and looked at each other with wide eyes. "He called mom…they're in cahoots…" Buffy whispered.

"We're doomed." Xander intoned in a deep voice. "DOOOMEEDD!"

Willow whimpered.

It did not get any better when Cordelia, passing by them in the aisle wrinkled her nose and said. "Damn, you people smell of dead wet dog." And blithely walked on.

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"Vote Cordelia Chase for Talent Queen!" Harmony handed out the flyer to Willow with a vapid smile. "Look, it's got a chocolate note stuck to it, that's like symbolic!"

Willow glanced at the rather runny bit of chocolate. "Well, yeah…its all melted and deformed…"

Buffy grinned. "Much like Cordelia's talent…"

Amy sniggered. "From what I heard up on that stage it was probably her voice that caused this stuff to melt…that'd set off uranium!"

"Harmony! Don't waste time on those losers! They're competing themselves!" Cordelia called out from across the hall.

"Yeah…but they can still vote, can't they?" Harmony looked confused.

"Harm…they'd vote for themselves…."

"But if you're better…" Harmony persisted.

Cordelia, Buffy, Amy and Willow gave Harmony pitying glances. It was Cordelia who nodded. "Sure Harm…sure. C'mon!" She stalked away, ready to corner an innocent senior and ply him with chocolate and smiles.

Harmony followed, looking confused.

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The Cordettes stood clustered at the top of the western outer stairs counting the remaining leaflets and occasionally nibbling a chocolate. "So how many are left?" Cordelia asked.

Harmony was trying to add up the figures she'd scribbled on a pad. "Errr…about a hundred and fifty?"

"Well then we need to get back in there and spread the word! Once the surprise hits them they must remember me with fondness! C'mon!"

She turned round, as did the other Cordettes. Harmony stumbled backwards, her arms windmilling, and then she fell down the stairs, knocking her head on the way down. An eerie chuckle filled the air as the Cordettes rushed down to pick up their fallen friend.

"Wha?'" Harmony blinked up at Cordelia.

"Harm? How many fingers?" Cordelia held up two.

"Huh? Fingers?"

"Ok…I'd say that was a concussion…someone get the nurse or call 911…" Cordelia held her friend's hand until the nurse came and she was sent to class.

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Buffy walked into the locker room muttering to herself. "Stupid mom's and their stupid notions on stupid hygiene and stupid sisters who forget their stupid gym bags in their lockers and stupid me who gets sent to get it…just because I'm faster and lil' sis gets afraid when she walks between the lockers, 'cause it's all cramped…Oh, hi Emily…"

"Heya Buff…" The blonde girl grinned. "Willow convinced you to come get her bag? Ummm…this is gonna sound really weird…but that picture in the paper…of Baryshnikov dancing with that little girl…"

"Yeah?"

"That kid I've seen you with…your sister…that's her isn't it?"

"Yup…My baby sister, Dawn."

"Ummm…do you think I could come by one day and talk to her…?"

"About her dancing with _Mikhail_ Buffy fluttered her eyelashes and sighed exaggeratedly, which made Emily giggle. "Or about ballet in general? In both cases, not a problem. You'd do us all a favour, she loves talking about it and to have another ballet enthusiast distract her…"

Buffy opened Willow's locker and reached in for the redhead's bag, then furtively looked around and got her own, putting a finger to her lips.

Emily giggled again. "Forgot yours too?"

"Shhhh! Yeah. We were kinda distracted yesterday…c'mon let's bust this joint."

A pair of angry eyes flashed as the two girls left, chatting about the horrors that were PE.

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Joyce was preparing dinner when the kids came home, looking subdued, Willow looked ready to cry.

"I see Principal Snyder informed you of your punishment." She said dryly.

"MOM!" Buffy whined. "How could you!"

"I'm your mother. It seemed to be more fitting a punishment than yet another detention…which you would shrug off or point to as a sign of prestige…" Joyce continued cleaning the cauliflower she was working on.

"But…" Xander tried.

"The rest of your punishment will be me making certain you rehearse and pick an actual act that might impress an audience."

Amy just groaned. "Dad is going to love seeing me on stage…"

Joyce grinned wickedly. "I think he's going to buy all his workers tickets…He sounded so proud…"

Amy groaned, but with even more feeling.

"MOM!" Buffy growled in desperation.

"Oh stop complaining dear, just go upstairs or in the dining room and discuss what you're going to put on. If you can't think of anything, I'll help. Now shoo…I'm trying to cook."

Buffy, Amy and Xander left, but Willow sat on a stool, dropping her bag on the floor and her forehead on the arms she laid on the island. After a minute or so she spoke in a quivering tiny voice.

"Mom…I'm scared…"

"I know dear."

"No, I'm really, really scared…"

"You hate getting in front of groups and talking and you're afraid they'll laugh and everything will go wrong. I know dear."

Willow looked up, a few tears in the corners of her eyes. Her expression was fierce and anguished at the same time. "Then why are you making me do this!"

"Because this is how I got over it dear. And your Aunt Arlene. Your Nana was the same way. And I had a word or two with Aunt Penny and Phoebe and Piper both suffer from it as well, her Patty was frantic about it. Celia is has it in a lesser way, she gets all rambling when she tries to speak in front of groups and Dawn…is just too much like Lolly…" Joyce smiled good naturedly at her youngest outgoing nature. "I've got no idea if Clarice is affected…" She looked slightly guilty at the fact she didn't.

Willow blinked in surprise. "Oh…B-but…'

"You're still afraid. I know honey…But I'll be here to help you through it…and trust me, it's a lot easier when you're dressed up as something completely different. You can play a part, and not be you." She put down the cauliflower next to the one she'd finished and hugged Willow.

"I only got into theatre in my junior year of college after…" She swallowed and hugged Willow even more tightly. "My psychologist suggested it. I-I sometimes wish I'd done it sooner…been more outgoing sooner…I think this may be good for you little Mouse…And Buffy too."

"You think so mom?" Willow asked in a tiny voice.

"I think so and I hope so…I can't be certain…but I'll do everything I can to help you."

"'kay…mom?"

"Yes dear?"

"Will there be…" She gestured at the cabbages waiting to be cooked hopefully.

Joyce laughed. "Yes dear, cauliflower with Gruyère and Emmentaler cheese sauce…now why don't you go talk with the others about what you'll perform."

Willow swallowed, nodding. Joyce smiled. "And you can tell them it was either this or four whole weeks of afternoon detentions…including Saturdays…I don't think Principal Snyder likes you very much…"

**End note:**

**I hope Joyce's punishment is not cruel? I attempted to show that she tired to both protect her children and help them at the same time.**


	33. Willowy seductress

**Author's note:**

**Some questions for my gentle readers:**

**1) Is a readers guide (characters, suggested reading order for the stories, family trees) something you would like?**

**2) If you've reviews and not had a response, this is not my intent. I try to answer all reviews, but sometimes the reply gets lost. I do a sweep every few days and try and answer them then.**

**3) If I make mistakes in spelling or homonyms, homphones heterographs etc, please let me know! After reading my stories through and writing them in the first place they sometimes slip by me.**

**4) I'm working on the Faith Story right now…please let me now if you want to read that or updates Lonely Souls. If you prefer another story/setting (NCIS or Stargate) that's fine too, just getting a feel here.**

**5) If you note inconsistencies or glaring errors (or not so glaring) please let me know.**

**I'd like to thank everybody**** who takes time for reading and reviewing this story.**

**Thanks to ayg and Eureka, the latest to recommend me.**

_Chapter 34__: Willowy seductress and anguished librarians_

They were wrangling at the dinner table. The cauliflower with cheese sauce and potatoes with sausage had been eaten and now they were on desert, mixed fruit with yoghurt. Joyce and Simon were amused as the battle of the Play had run on since before the first dish was put on the table and showed no more sign of moving than the Western Front.

"Comedy." Buffy once again set out her preference.

"Tragedy. It's easier, no one takes it seriously anyway. Make it Greek or Roman and we'll even get Wills a couple of extra points of Credit with Dr. Andrews." Xander pointed out.

"Romance." Amy put in her five cents, for the third time.

"All romance is tragedy." Willow was still a bit despondent about her encounter with Moloch.

"Can you get another guy?" Dawn asked around a mouth full of pears and yoghurt. She always ate the pear first.

"Dawn, don't talk with you mouth full." Joyce said it absently while looking at her youngest with interest.

The four older teens blinked. "What?"

"Can you get another guy?" Dawn repeated patiently, this time without food in her mouth.

Amy, Xander and Buffy looked at Willow, grinning. Willow looked confused and flushed a little. "Yeah, shouldn't be a problem. Why?" Buffy asked.

"MacBeth. Three witches." She pointed her empty spoon at Buffy Amy and Willow in turn, "and MacBeth." The spoon moved to Xander. "So all you need is someone to play Banquo. So second guy."

Joyce smiled. "Why Dawn that's a wonderful idea!"

The three girls exchanged looks. Then they looked at Xander, calculation in their eyes. "We'll need to draw lots, see who gets what part…" Buffy started.

"And get the second guy…who do you think we can get?" Willow asked still confused.

"That'll be no problem Willow…no problem at all." Amy winked at Buffy. Buffy giggled.

Xander held up his hand. "Don't I get a vote in this?"

"Of course you do Xand…it's just…you're alone…and there's a clear majority of three of us."

Xander looked at Simon who raised an eyebrow. "You seriously expect me to get into the middle of this?"

Xander sighed, giving up. "Okay…But no tights."

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"So…why did Mr. Giles not inform you of the Copper knife? Joyce asked after desert had been finished.

"He told me about Hrackesh earlier…I sorta forgot…"Buffy groaned. Three pairs of eyes settled on the Slayer.

"So…Giles told you?" Willow's voice was cold.

"Yeah…"

"And you forgot…" Amy's was colder still.

"And that meant that I got wet dog remarks all day from Cordelia?" Xander glared.

"When he really only smells like a wet puppy…" Amy teased and Xander glared at her.

"Says you, little Miss 'smells like burning prairie dog!'"

"Who said that?" Amy hissed.

"Larry and Devon and Garret…Sorry Ames…" Xander seemed genuinely apologetic.

"Oh…dammit. Sorry Ms. Summers!" She grinned ruefully. "Well there go my chances of a date with Larry…"

"I'm sorry Amy…I fear that the smell will linger for several more days…Hrackesh goo is very…pungent." Simon said.

Buffy sniffed. "Yeah…didn't realize until now how much I use smell to hunt…"

Joyce gave her a worried look. "Buffy…I'd prefer then that you'd not patrol or be very careful…more careful than usual…please?"

Buffy looked thoughtful. "I'll just do the graveyard watch then…that ought to be safe enough…"

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The lair was dark and filled with the smell of minerals and blood. The old vampire known as the Master stood at the lectern reading the great leather bound book. A small boy, dark haired and eyed sat watching him.

"Any revelations in there that might be of use my friend?"

"No…none that make any sense. How my father thought some of these things were worth writing down…"

"Such as?"

"Like this:

_If what was sundered once and lost_

_Is found again and Powers unbound_

_And when the Chosen Dead Rises,_

_And the sacrifice is slain_

_And the Anointed rises into the sun_

_Then the Seer who is the father_

_Shall escape his bonds_

_And come to the place between worlds._

The Master tilted his head. "It loses a little in translation of course…Aramaic is far more poetic than English ever will be."

"Poetic yes…but it does not sound singularly useful…why don't we just send a half dozen vampires to kill the Slayer when she leaves that dance club of hers? Or waylay her outside her home, but letting it be done by competent people this time…"

"I'd agree but it's just so difficult to get good help these days…"

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Cordelia Chase parked her car outside the Kendall home. The British born Kendalls ran a noted beauty clinic and the house Harmony lived in reflected their considerable income. With the relatively low property prices in Sunnydale, this meant a large white stuccoed refurbished 1920's villa with subterranean garages and a pool at the back, all set in a spacious garden. Not quite as large as the Chase Estate, but still one of the largest houses in Sunnydale after the Wilkins properties and Banker's Manor. She clasped the small box of expensive Belgian chocolates and carried it up the steps to the front door and rang the bell. One of the Twins opened the door.

"You rang Miss Chase?" She used an affected British accent.

Cordy gave the girl a look and rolled her eyes. "Very funny Melody…I'm here to see Harm…"

"She's okay!" Melody was obviously quite relieved by the fact.

"That's good to hear...but I'd still like to see her…"

"Oh, of course, come in!"

Melody let her in and gave shout. "MOM! DAD! It's CORDELIA!"

Cordelia grinned. The twins had acted this way as long as she could remember, or at least as long as they could walk and talk. And she could have walked around the back and taken the kitchen entrance, but her mother had been on her case about that again…only common people went to the kitchen entrance…

"C'mon, Cordy, she's been wanting to talk to you." Melody grabbed Cordelia's hand and led her up the broad sweeping staircase.

Harmony was lying in bed, covered in a thin duvet and looking glassy eyed. Felicity was sitting by her bed, reading from a Nancy Drew novel.

"Hello Cordy!" Felicity greeted her and then rose, patting Harmony's hand. "I'll be back later…or Melody will be. 'Kay"

Harmony nodded vaguely. " 'kay…Heya Cordy…"

Cordelia sat by her oldest friend. "Harm…you look awful."

"Don't feel so good…"

"What happened?"

"Felt like…push…" Harmony said with a thick tongue. "Bu' no one there…"

"Yeah…you sure you didn't trip?"

"Yah…Cordy?"

"Yeah Harm?"

Harmony picked at her blanket. "Does someone want to kill me? Or you?"

"I don't know Harm. But I'll look out for you…always."

"Always…" Harm extended her little pinky and Cordelia hers.

"Deputy…" Harm grinned and Cordelia groaned.

"Oh stop that, you juvenile delinquent! That was sooo not a good day…"

"You looked cute in the antler hat…" Harmony sniggered and then put a hand to her head. "Ow…head hurts…"

"Yeah…you've got a concussion…So I'll leave. I've brought you some Belgian chocolates…don't pig out!"

"Thanks…Want one?"

"Nah, I need to fit in my dress for the Talent show…don't forget the Twerps."

"Twins…" Harmony scowled. She was incredibly protective of her little sisters.

"You gonna tell me what's wrong with them?" Cordelia ignored the glare.

Harmony shook her head miserably. "Can't…Promised…"

"Oh Harm…" Harmony never ever broke a promise to her sisters either.

Cordelia leaned forward and kissed her platinum blonde friend's forehead. "Rest…get better soon. It's just not the same at school without you…"

"Y'okay…Cordy? Be carefull..was pushed. 'M sure 'ff it…"

Cordelia left, her face thoughtful, as Harmony quickly slipped into a concussed sleep. She nodded at the equally blonde twins and left through the kitchen, to say goodbye to her friend's parents.

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Willow looked in surprise at the tiny burgundy top and the short white skirt and ballet shoes Buffy and Amy had chosen for her to wear to school the next day. The sheer red stockings did not help at all to set her mind at rest.

"W-why do I have to wear this? It'll be cold…"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "It's not that cold Wills…actually it's pretty darn hot for the time of year. And so will you be, wearing that."

"But _Buffy_! C-cleavage and leggage and…and stomachage!" Willow was getting desperate.

Amy crossed her arms. "Look Will…we need you to look…"

"Like a tramp?" Joyce's dry voice came from the door. "Where did you _get_ that skirt anyway?"

"Your closet." Amy and Buffy chorused unthinkingly. Joyce took a step closer to the bed. "Oh…it's the one that shrunk in the wash…not the point, its not Willow's style…and I dare say that she will be more…effective in your scheme if she is comfortable." She sat on the bed. "So what's the young man's name?"

She looked at Willow inquisitively and her middle daughter stood gaping like a fish. "Y-young m-man?"

Joyce gave Buffy and Amy a look. "She doesn't know?"

Buffy shrugged. "Everybody else does…Dave."

Willow looked astonished. "Dave? B-but he's cute! And smart a-and _cute_! And…oooohhh…" She turned on Buffy. "You told him I like cheese!" She pointed an accusing finger.

Buffy grinned. "Yup. And he's still giving you roses…so I'd say you've got yourself a winner Lil' sis…Romance and food both…oh, and let's not forget the poetry…He's done Burns and Shakespeare and _Kirby_ so far right? I think the first one was all his…"

Willow blushed. "B-but…"

Joyce looked at the clothes again, hiding her amusement at her daughter's obliviousness. "Let's see what Willow would pick…and go from there."

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Rupert Giles looked up from his reading at the sound of the doorbell. He rather self-consciously checked his clothes and went to the door. It might be Jenny after all…He hadn't been able to reach his friends yet…well if he was completely honest he was a touch worried to do so.

He opened the door and slightly deflated. "Oh…it's you."

"Well thank you Dr. Giles for that warm welcome…who were you expecting?"

"N-No one…I merely…"

"Yes?" Simon smirked.

"N-Never mind."

"May I come in?"

Giles stepped aside but did not utter an invitation, Simon nodded approvingly.

"Well now…Dr. Giles…there are many things we must discuss…"

"If this is about the Hrackesh, I swear I told Buffy…"

"I know, I know…But Joyce is till going to have a word with the two of you…"

Giles winced.

Simon continued, but with a very small smirk on his face. "She did not appreciate your actions, Dr. Giles…even if you and I know that the Hrackesh was supremely unlikely to harm Buffy…but I do hope that you'll never send her out again without specific instructions?"

Giles nodded. "Yes…I'll make certain she knows the weaknesses of every demon she faces _minutes _before meeting it, considering her inability to memorize simple facts."

Simon nodded. "Dr. Giles…there are some things you need to know about Buffy…but if you reveal them to members of the Council…there will be grave trouble …"

Giles glared. "What exactly have I done to earn your distrust, sir?"

"Nothing…yet…but then Buffy has not yet reached her eighteenth birthday." Simon said calmly. "If before that time you've not realized that Buffy is not a weapon to be forged but a girl to be helped…you will find yourself in trouble…but what I just said was not a warning or a threat…I think…I hope you will agree with my assessment after we've spoken."

"I see…can I offer you some tea then?"

"Yes, I would appreciate that…"

"Orange pekoe?'

"Just lovely."

Giles busied himself in the kitchen while Simon studied the personal book collection of the Watcher. "A goodly collection…I assume that the important works are at the library? The Pergamom Codex? The Tiberius Manifesto?"

"W-well of course not…there hasn't been an extant copy of either since the early nineteenth century…"

"WHAT?" Simon turned around aghast. "Haven't you people ever heard of copying? Bloody hell, Giles! You're supposed to guide these girls, not send them to their deaths uninformed!"

"Well of course if you just _happen_ to have a copy or two lying around I'd be _delighted_ to consult them…" Giles spoke sarcastically. "Oh and why don't you throw in Isidore's _Extractus de_ _Bestiarium Demonicae_ or heavens yes, the original complete version…_Res Demonicae_, and of course…_The Compendium of the Annals of the Wizards_…"

"I'll have copies made and have them sent over…what the hell have you people been doing with your libraries!"

"What? You…you have them? But they've been lost! Some of them for centuries…Six of my classmates alone died trying to get a single folio of the _Compendium_…"

"All that…and none of you considered you might be on the wrong track? That you might _not_ be the ones intended to lead the Chosen one anymore?"

"Oh…I see your point…That's indeed something to think about…"

"Yes…but not the reason I'm here…Dr. Giles…the last few weeks there have been certain…revelations about Buffy's…lineage."

Giles smiled. "You're making it sound as if she's a witch…no known Slayer has ever been an active magic user…"

"Jehanne de Domrémy was…"

"Oh…I see…Yes…well…I've not seen Buffy use magic…"

"You might never…but she is of the Lineage of Johnson of the House of Warren."

"Bloody hell" Giles sank down on the couch, staring at the older man.

"Her cousins might become the Charmed Ones if they choose to have their powers activated…"

"Good Lord…" Giles took of his glasses. "So her mother?"

"Is a Warren witch yes…through her own mother. And Joyce's Power is Mother…if that means anything to you…?"

"A little…dear lord…A Witch…This may change things…I don't even know where to look for half the books we'll need…"

Simon waved a hand. "I'll take care of that…or at least my people will."

"Oh…good…I don't think I ought to buy those on the Council account…"

"Yes…And then there's the supporting cast…Catherine Madison was possessed by the spirit of Pulchritudia Black…Amy's House McGonagall by the way…The Channeling side of the Family."

"Dear lord…Our Lady of Darkness…"

"Yes…And Willow is descended from House Warren and House Death both, as is her mother."

"D-Death? Are you sure? I thought they were extinct…" Giles nearly pushed one of the lenses out of the frame of his glasses.

"Rumours of our _death_ have been greatly exaggerated." Simon nodded at the whistling tea kettle. "Shall we have some tea?"

Giles swallowed heavily but rose to make tea. "Oh dear…errr…can I say I'm dreadfully sorry for the harm brought to your family by the organization I represent…"

"Yes…and considering what you've just heard?"

"The Council will never find out…You'll really provide me with all those books?"

"Of course…Giles…Rupert…you are Buffy's Watcher…if there is any mystical bond left between the Watchers's and the Slayers I don't want to get in the way…but I do want you to have the finest references available…but I do hope you realize I'll expect you to do your utmost to keep her safe…"

"I understand…would it be allowed to make copies?"

"I…I need to think about that…if the Watchers lost so much…I feel there must be a reason."

"Hmmm. Again…you may have a point." Giles returned from the kitchen with the full tea pot, setting it down to steep. He took out two delicate porcelain cups with saucers and looked at Simon.

"Just a touch of lemon, if you have it. And of course I'll provide you with such references concerning Buffy's new…connections as I posses."

"Indeed? What did you have in mind?" Giles went to the kitchen to cut two fresh slices of lemon and get the squeezer.

"_The Book of Warrener, The Halliwell Manuscript, The Unexpurgated Wallington Diaries, The Cruxis. _And the _Book of Death_ of course."

Giles' hands shook with repressed excitement. "Oh…how wonderful…"

"Yes…just kindly remember that all those families have had _very_ bad experiences with the Watchers…and the Focus Users…So please make certain they do not fall into wrong hands…"

"Oh…of course…You have my word."

"That will be sufficient."

"Dr. Meier…Simon?'

"Yes."

"There is one more thing…when I was a young man I dabbled in the black arts…"

"Yes? I fear that very few young adepts don't at least try…I know I did…" He looked bleak.

"We…friends of mine and I…we summoned a demon."

Simon took a sip of tea. "Not the wisest of things…why did you do it?"

"Well...aside from the fact I was an idiot…"

Simon waved a hand. "We'll take that as a given." He said airily.

Giles glared but continued. "We wanted wealth…power…and...the thrill…"

"I see…well you wouldn't be the first…what did you summon?"

"Not what…who…"

Simon groaned. "Oh _something_…Who and how?"

"Eyghon the Sleepwalker…with a spell from the Black Grimoire of Agostinos of Compostella."

Simon gave him an incredulous look. "You call that _dabbling_? You were Watcher trained…and you took a spell from that book?"

Giles fidgeted and blushed. "Yes well…I was rebelling…I did say…"

"I _see_…and now?"

"Well…Jen…Miss Calendar found out…She contacted a friend of hers…who says we, the Circle who summoned him, those of us who are left…can do something called a ritual of disavowal?"

Simon looked blank. "Ritual of disavowal…err…well there's nothing about it in the Family journals…but then most of my ancestors have been more of the smiting variety than the forgiving…As far as humans are concerned at any rate."

Giles snorted. "Ah yes…free will…and if of your own free will evil you commit…"

"We bring down the hammer…of course with my father's track record so far…I'd say family wise we should up about the whole holier than thou bit for a while…"

"You're taking this remarkably calmly…" Giles voice was intrigued."

"I've seen worse…and you're telling me this before anything happened to threaten my children…that's a point in your favour. Are you marked?"

"Yes…"

"Well…it wouldn't even take a ritual then I think…but I don't know what it actually entails, so…but at any rate, merely removing the mark would work."

"R-removing?"

"Surgically…or other wise. My grandfather did once cut off a Mark of Phrestor the Destroyer."

"But that covers the whole right arm! And part of the shoulder and oh…." Giles swallowed and took a sip of tea, to stop the cup from clattering on the saucer.

"Yes…Granddad really took the smiting business seriously." Simon looked at his watch. "Well Rupert…I think we've reached an understanding…"

"Yes…we have. I promise I'll faithfully care for Buffy, for Buffy's sake, not the Council."

"Good…very good…Oh…by the way…If you ever have time…there are some tomes in the family library that need transcribing and translating…If you're interested…you'll be paid of course."

Giles grinned. "Well now…that would be nice…"

"And here's the address of the garage I take my car too…I'd advise you to have yours revised…Sometimes you need to get somewhere just a little bit faster than at a snail's pace…

Giles glared. "It's a classic!"

"It's a 1963 Citroën DS, yes…and it needs work." Simon replied. He firmly handed Giles the address. "It's a shame to let it exist in the half life misery it currently is in."

Giles smiled, ruefully. "Well…yes…but neither the Council nor the School pays that well…"

Simon hemmed. "You read Aramaic? Sumerian?"

"Yes…"

"I'll have Worthing send the first tomes out for you to translate…and take the cost out of your pay." He grinned. "Have a good evening Dr. Giles…and Joyce will come to visit you tomorrow…"

Giles gulped. After ushering his visitor out he sat on the couch. He shivered. He was about to feel the vengeance of Joyce Summers, Mother Witch…and that was not something he was looking forward to."

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Willow was wearing a dress, a green dress with pleats, belted in white and with a hemline just below her knees and a square, modest neckline lined with lace and green suede shoes with white ankle socks.

Her hair was in a single French braid twined with green and white ribbon, courtesy of mom's skill at hairdressing. Buffy was getting better, but Dawn just wouldn't sit still long enough for practice. Buffy and Amy admitted that it looked good. Very good. They discreetly followed her through the corridors of the school and watched the reactions. People were noticing Willow who never noticed Willow before.

Dave was going through his locker when he heard her voice. "H-hey Dave…"

Dave stiffened and turned around. And his mouth fell open. He managed to close, swallowed heavily and gargled forth a reply.

"Willow…"

"Dave…you've been leaving me the cheese and flowers, haven't you?"

Dave flushed. "Yeah…I'm sorry…I-I'll stop if it embarrasses you…"

Willow shook her head. "Oh no…I love it…But…Dave…I need your help…" She pouted prettily, making large doe eyes, like Buffy and Amy had taught her. She thought she looked like an idiot, but they assured her it would work.

Buffy and Amy stifled giggles as Dave almost visibly straightened at this call upon his masculine strength. "A-anything…"

"Well you see…Buffy, Amy Xander and me…we've got to put on a bit for the talent show…because we skipped afternoon class Monday… and we need another male actor…"

Dave shrugged. "Okay. What're you putting on?"

Willow blinked. "Y-you're not freaked out?" _*Okay…this is way easier than I thought it would be…*_

"Naah, I've been in lots of plays…I just sort of gave up 'cause I never went beyond first sheep and stuff." He shrugged. "Never was popular enough."

Willow giggled. "Thanks! Ummm…we're doing MacBeth…so you won't mind being Banquo? Just a few scenes…"

"We read it in English. It'll be fine. No prob."

"Okay! Thanks Dave! See you in class? Comp Sci right?"

"Umm… Yeah…Willow…can I walk you to your locker…and ummm…then to class?"

Willow gave him a radiant smile. "Sure! C'mon!"

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Jenny Calendar mounted the steps to the school and into the cool hallways ready for another fine day of teaching and torture. She shuddered_. *There has to be someway in which I can convince Cordelia to not compete…* _When she passed the Library she saw Rupert wave at her to come in and after hesitating for a second, did so.

Rupert looked worried. "Good morning, Miss Calendar…"

"Jenny…its Jenny, Rupert…now what's wrong?"

There's trouble…"

Jenny eyed him worriedly. "Eyghon?"

"No…No…Ms. Summers is less than amused that we sent her children out to fight a demon with insufficient instruction…even if I did tell Buffy about the Hrackesh's weakness…I wasn't clear on it…so…errr…she will be by today…and since errr…well…she…errr…"

"English…are you telling me that I'm going to get tarred with the same brush?"

"I-I do very much fear so…yes…"

"Oh…isn't that just plain dandy…well you can tell her that it was all your idea!"

"Can he now?" Joyce Summers voice was dry and calm. Jenny and Rupert spun round to face her.

She stood just in front of the library doors, carrying two large bags. "Well, well…if it isn't the responsible adults…"

Rupert and Jenny winced.

"My children tell me you will be performing in the Talent Show…"

"Err…yes…that is to say, we, Miss Calendar and I…"

"A very nice duet for two people falling in love…"

Jenny nodded. "Yes, but…"

"So I thought wouldn't it be nice if they had appropriate costumes?" She held up the bags, plainly marked _The Costume Lounge_.

Jenny started to shiver. "Y-You wouldn't! Not in front of the entire school!"

Joyce gave her a cold look. "You unnecessarily put my babies at risk…I consider this a very mild punishment…I could call _my _mother…She favours plagues of boils…"

Jenny swallowed. _*Oh Goddess! She's a witch!*_ "I-ah…" Her shoulders dropped in defeat. "I'll wear it…"

"Very good…This one's yours." She thrust a bag at Jenny who accepted it as if it was full of snakes. The other she gave to Giles.

"I greatly look forward to seeing you perform! Have a good day!" She left the library, whistling softly. Jenny recognized it as _A whole new world._

"Err…Jenny…what exactly is so terrible about these costumes?"

"Just…take it into your office and look at it Rupert…" Jenny scurried out of the library.

Giles sighed and carried the bag into his office. About two minutes later there was an anguished scream. "Oh no! NOOOOOO!"

**End Note:**

**I hope this satisfies the craving for punishment of Giles and Jenny, the knowledge that it will happen at least…And what's in those boxes…**


	34. The demon in the background

**Author's Note: **

**I'm going with longer, less frequent updates. It fits my style better I think. So fewer updates until my holiday, when I have a slice of time to catch up on my writing a little.**

**Thanks everyone for reviewing. Since most of you know that Joyce has provided the Aladdin costumes, people may now vote as to what costumes they are: Prince or street rat, Princess or Slave?**

_Chapter 35: The demon in the background and worried cheerleaders_

Jenny Calendar was beyond annoyed. She was angry as hell. She had to sing on stage, in front of all the school…with Rupert…a love duet…In those costumes…oh God she was going to die of humiliation…and mostly because Rupert, in his unutterable stupidity had antagonized his White Hat assistants in the battle against evil…And Joyce Summers…she was evil! Pure evil! And Snyder and the School board were evil too! And all because teaching extra computer classes was not 'social' enough…Luddites! Jenny huffed.

And the stupid flute music would just not stop! And no one could tell her where it came from. Apparently some stupid kid had hidden tape recorders throughout the school or something…And the annoying thing was that whoever played it showed more musical talent than anyone who'd signed up for the talent show…which was just plain cruel.

And her computer kept going wiggy on her...She gritted her teeth. Now she was starting to think like her pupils…She reached for the off switch to start a hard reset when she noticed a message from Willow_RosenbergSunnydaleHigh.

**Marc isn't real. **

Jenny sighed and typed a response.

^Willow…you can't use the school chat for this sort of thing. That's cyber bullying. It could get you in trouble.^

**Marc isn't real…as in not human…as in demon. Really not real. Tell Buffy…Please? See…I'm a good girl…**

A link appeared and Jenny blinked, and then clicked the link. A carefully prepared set of facts showing that Marc had appeared only few months previously…no previous schooling, records, medical files, residences…He'd appeared one day out of thin air and sat in class…and everybody had accepted him. It was at the very least, worrisome. It was not like Willow to fabricate lies…and it would be difficult to hack through both her own and Willow's highly unauthorized protections around the school's chat system. She worried her lower lip and decided to go to the library. Rupert would be there…

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"Rupert…"

Giles looked up from the group up on stage trying to perform something akin to dance. This was not the 'Jenny is worried about our performance' voice, or the 'Jenny is annoyed with me for denigrating technology in general/her dress sense/computers/more computers/yet more computers' voice. Nor was it the 'Jenny is going to kill me for having to wear that stupid costume in front of the entire school voice which was by far the worst so far…This was the 'Jenny is seriously worried about the fate of the world' voice she'd used during the Moloch possession of the Internet.

"What is it Jenny?" He was instantly alert.

"I-I got a mail from Willow…and it's strange…She says Marc, you know, the magician in the Talent show, is a-a demon, not real."

Giles flipped open his day planner and looked at the class schedules of the Slayerettes he'd written down in there. "Willow's supposed to be in history…How can she be sending you emails? Or chats?"

"She can't…but Rupert…what's Marc's last name?"

Giles opened his mouth to reply that it was of course… and realized he did not know. "Good Lord…"

"Yeah…Look I don't know how Willow sent me this…but we need your White hats…And…Rupert…if this demon _is_ dangerous…can we really send a couple of kids to do this?"

"I-I think we can. I'll talk to them during break…"

The Slayerettes were rather annoyed to have their break disturbed by an agitated librarian. Especially Willow, who was getting ready to get to know Dave. And then he dragged them off to the library.

Buffy glared at Giles on behalf of her sister. "This better be important…"

"We think Marc may be a demon."

"Marc? Don't be ridiculous…I've know him for years…" Xander blinked. "I think…"

Willow looked at Buffy and Amy.

"I- Think I've known Marc for years…but…I don't know…

Amy looked thoughtful. "Either someone is playing with our memories of Marc…or Marc is not real…"

Buffy nodded decisively. I say we take him and ask him a few questions…if he's for real…we let him go…if he isn't…" She cracked her knuckles. "Time to play."

Marc was in class all day which made tracking him easier. After class he was slotted to rehearse for his magic performance at the talent show. The plan was to nab him after that. In the mean time more information was needed. And parents needed to be informed.

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"Meier." Simon's voice was absent.

"Simon? Do you know of any kind of demon that makes people think they're human?"

"Buffy?"

"Yeah."

"Problem at school?"

"Guy called Marc…Nobody knows his last name…and we've all known him for years, good ol' Marc, bit of a geek but ok…and he has no known address or anything…"

"Amateurish…most demons manage better than that…it might be misdirection."

"We thought of that…Simon…could you tell mom that we have a second male lead…but we do need to take care of this Marc business…"

"Very well…do try to keep safe and clean, will you Buffy?"

Buffy grimaced at the phone. "Very funny…haha."

"Anything else that might be helpful? Anything strange? Anything setting of your instincts?"

"Well there's this guy with a ventriloquist's dummy…He wiggs me out. I don't like dummies…Don't say it…I got enough teasing from the guys."

"A dummy…it rings a bell…Something about magical puppets…a hand puppet show in France run by two witches, but I doubt that's it…And it doesn't do to ignore a Slayer's senses, you have them for a reason…Anyway, I'll call Worthing and have him draw up a list. See if you can get a hold of the dummy as well as this Marc, and I'll have Worthing cross reference and call Dr. Giles."

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The Dummy was missing from the cabinet where he'd been stored and Morgan was frantic about it. The disappearance worried Buffy and Giles even more. Willow was rather taken up by talking to Dave about computers. Xander was worried there would be tights in his future. Amy kept gazing mournfully at Larry, well out of the reach of the athlete's sensitive nose.

Buffy glared at the scenery where soon she'd be making her first stage appearance since she played fourth shepherd in the Christmas play in kindergarten. After that debacle…Buffy would never admit to knowing that word outside the confines of her mind…She hadn't ever had a speaking role on stage ever again. At least with the skating she could be silent and ignore everything else…

And where the hell was Marc? He was there a minute ago… She cursed under her breath. At the front of the stage Cordelia was hitting the high point of the song she had settled on, Whitney Houston's version of _Greatest love of all_.

"I DEcidEd long AGO, never to walk in ANYone's SHADOWS!" Cordelia warbled. Buffy could see Giles and Miss Calendar wince.

Buffy's Slayer senses kicked in and before anyone else could react she pushed Cordelia out of the way of the falling piece of scenery. "IF I FAIL IF I SUCCEED UFFFFF!"

Cordelia's breath was expelled by the impact, mercifully silencing her. The heavy canvas backdrop and the metal bar it hung from thundered down behind her and Buffy. Buffy felt the taller girl stiffen. "Oh god…Harm was right…someone _is_ trying to kill us…"

Buffy gave her a look. "What did you say?"

"N-Nothing..Nothing… …err…they really should do something about the safety of this place! I mean, first the stupid light, now this? This place is a hazard! My dad is going to sue the pants of this school!"

Buffy looked after the raging brunette as she strode up the aisle between the seats. "Yeah…you're welcome Cordelia."

She looked around. Xander stood at one end of the stage and shook his head…Willow and Dave at the other end, studying the light plan, did the same. Amy at the top of the theatre, allegedly studying her script shrugged a negative. Damn…where was Marc?

Buffy concentrated, reaching out with her senses, like Giles had taught her…felt, stretched her hearing and smell and vision to the utmost…

She heard a scream and acted instantly. Grabbing up a belaying pin that had been used in holding up the backdrop that had just fallen she ran to the locker rooms, her alerted Slayer senses pinpointing the direction of the noise.

Marc had Emily pressed against a locker, her sweater and bra torn away, bleeding from a wound over her heart. Buffy took him down in a running jump kick and he flew into the lockers opposite. She was on him in a flash, pounding heavily with the belaying pin. Giles and Miss Calendar were right behind her and started offering first aid to Emily.

Marc stopped struggling but did not seem dead. Buffy hauled him up and looked around, her eyes alighting on a set of old jump ropes. She twisted them together and used them to tie the demon up. A couple of old, discarded gym socks, probably Cordelia's by the colour and expense, sufficed to stuff his mouth. The fact they had not been washed was a bonus in her mind.

Willow was already calling. "Dad? Willow. Buffy's just downed a guy and we've got a girl wounded here…no we're alright...okay…see you in…DAD! DRIVE CAREFULLY!" She glared at the phone. "See you in five…the man has no sense of self preservation…" She muttered to herself angrily.

Buffy giggled and pounded Marc a few more times for good measure.

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Giles leaned back in his chair, sighing. He'd just come of the phone with Dr. Worthing. In a three hour phone conversation interspersed with walks to cupboards and reference books they'd crossed off three dozen demonic species and come to the conclusion that only the Seven Brothers or the Brotherhood of seven, whatever translation you used, qualified…which meant, according to Worthing, that the Dummy was likely a cursed demon hunter called Sid Kofferman…and he'd suggested putting out a bottle of cheap whisky and furniture wax. Giles wasn't quite sure if that was supposed to be a serious suggestion or a bad joke

Emily had been taken to the hospital after the school nurse and Simon had both had a look at her. The struggling Marc had been deposited in the trunk of the Volvo. Buffy, who'd taken a liking to the belaying pin, had thumped him enthusiastically until he stopped moving.

Rupert Giles sat in his office in the library. Buffy and the others were at home, being drilled in the thespian arts by Ms. Summers…Jenny and he had pleaded again to be released from their love duet but the teens had been icy when they'd tried to wiggle out of singing '_A whole new world_' and replacing it with something more palatable like the _National Anthem_ or _Land of hope and Glory_… It was going to be ruddy humiliating….And the teens didn't even know about the costumes…He shrugged and got out his bottle of emergency whisky and started calling out for the dummy. It was worth a try after all…

"Mr. Kofferman? I'm Rupert Giles of the Watchers' Council…I think we need to talk…"

The small form of the puppet dropped out of the ceiling with an agility that belied its wood and cloth form.

"Yeah…I figure we do…"

Giles nodded. "I was told you might enjoy a bit of whisky? Perhaps with a drop of wax?"

The dummy blinked, twice. "Yeah…who told you that?"

"Dr Earnest Worthing…after some research in the Meier family library… "

The Dummy was on Giles in seconds. "You work for Meier?"

"No! I'm a Watcher…and I think you may have the wrong Meier…The current one is Simon XV…though he'll probably clobber you if you all him that to his face…"

It seemed impossible for a dummy to relax but Sid managed. "So the old one is dead…sorry 'bout that…been out of the mystical loop for a bit."

"Quite alright…he was not a nice man from what I've heard…"

"So I saw you got the demon…"

"Yes…and as far as we can tell, you're the only one that can really kill it…But we were wondering if you might not like a night of relaxation first..."

The puppet gave him a look. "Yeah…that might be nice…

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A light was burning in the library at Hooghwater Manor. Giles looked around in some astonishment. Several dozen leather bound tomes were taking up space in the huge bookcases and half a dozen huge crates stood on the floor. Carpet had been laid in several corridors and a very functional Slayer Gym had been finished. The one thing that bothered him about it was the small plaque next to it calling it Nikki's Dream Room…He wondered if Nikki Wood would have lived longer if the Council had allowed Simon Meier to bring his full wealth in to support her… He needed to call Bernard…the man would be a mine of information for an Active Watcher…no doubt Simon could find out his number…

"Beats me why a man who doesn't drink has such fine liquor."

Giles' attention was drawn to the present. "I believe Sid, that Dr. Meier's father laid it down." Giles answered, looking at the deep amber liquid in his glass.

"Bastard did something right then…"

"Sun's coming up."

"So it is…Ripper." Sid had discovered Giles' old nickname after the departure of what he scoffingly called the 'Blue Button squad'.

"Yeah, Sid?"

"Let's kill the bastard at dawn…give my body to Morgan…he'll want it…and…tell him I'll miss him and see him on the other side."

"You won't have to wait long, will you?"

"No…No we won't. Ripper…This was fun…It's been a long time since I last had fun…it's a good way to go."

Rupert nodded. "Yes…sometimes it's good to just relax a bit…"

"Like with your Little Gypsy lass…she got a build, she has…"

"Gypsy?"

"Your young lady…your lovely assistant?"

"Jenny? Jenny's not a Gypsy."

"She isn't? Damn…maybe it's a good thing that this is the last of the Seven…I'm losing my touch I could've sworn she was… Ah well…Bottoms up! And Drinks too!"

Giles did not know how a puppet managed to leer but Sid managed it.

Giles thoughtfully swallowed a sip of whisky. He wasn't drunk…it wouldn't do…but he was a bit tipsy. And school would start in just a few hours. But it had been worth it, for the three of them to bid goodbye to the old demon hunter. Simon and Patrick had left earlier, since they had to be alert early in the morning. Giles admitted he could actually nap in his office most of the day if things were normal.

"I have to agree though…she is built…"

"And you like her…and she likes you…does she know about…" He gestured at himself and the library.

"Yes."

"Then I suggest you get a move on…that's a rare thing, a woman who knows and still loves you…does she know about Buffy? And who call their kid Buffy anyway…"

"No…she doesn't…and Yes…I think I will get a move on…"

"See that you do…Life's to short to mess about, or you get permanent wood, just not in the mornings."

Giles sighed. Sid was ok…but sixty odd years as a puppet had given him an eternally horny look on life.

"Thanks Sid."

"Anytime Ripper…Lets go see if Bchenka still has that demon bottled up…I feel like I could take a little rest…for eternity.

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Joyce Summers sighed as her children, and she tentatively included Amy in that list, were mucking about in the ballroom of Hooghwater Huis. Joyce had complained about lack of room in the garage and Simon had absentmindedly called Miller and the Estate manager had provided her with the keys and…Joyce had spent an awed hour walking through the place. Simon had told her he owned it…but she'd failed to realize how huge it really was. The kids, having been there before, were less in awe.

A huge cauldron had been dragged up from the wash house by Buffy, who insisted that if it had to be done it had to be done properly.

To Joyce's amusement Willow was quite the little tyrant on stage, insisting they all rehearse rigorously. If she was going out on stage, if she was going to go down as a failure, laughed at and scorned; it would not be from lack of practice. Her disgusting wig and horrid clothes helped get her into character. And so she wanted full dress rehearsals as often as possible. She screeched, starting the scene again.

"When shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain?"

Buffy intoned after her. "When the hurlyburly's done, When the battle's lost and won."

Amy came in as third witch. "That will be ere the set of sun."

Joyce nodded approvingly. After their initial hesitation and trepidation the girls had all thrown themselves into the play. They wore the costumes with verve and Joyce had skilfully applied the makeup to show what they would look like. They'd balked at the costumes at first but had quickly agreed to wear them when Joyce had pointed out the dress store _next_ to the costume shop had some interesting items on sale.

Simon had found that infinitely amusing. He accused her of missing the excitement of the stage. And she admitted she did a little. She also admitted she wanted to know what he was going to make her dress up as for Halloween. He'd not even dropped a hint and by now she was getting really nervous.

The three witches finished the first scene and started the second. And all three girls spoke the final lines that should have prompted Xander's and Dave's entry from the Ladies' Drawing room.

"The weird sisters, hand in hand,  
Posters of the sea and land,  
Thus do go about, about:  
Thrice to thine and thrice to mine  
And thrice again, to make up nine.  
Peace! the charm's wound up."

There was no Xander. There was no Dave.

"Xander!" Willow called out

"No!"

"Oh c'mon Xand, you look fine." Buffy's face was perfectly straight but Amy and Willow kept stifling giggles.

"I'm not coming out! I look ridiculous."

"We all look ridiculous Xand…we're acting. Now get out here before I've got to come and get you!" Willow threatened.

"No!"

"Xander!" Buffy tried to convince her older brother.

"I refuse! You all got to pick your own costumes, and you picked mine…Well I _REFUSE_!"

Joyce sighed. "Xander…"

"They're tights Mom! I. Won't. Do. it!" His voice was iron hard.

"Xander!" Willow whined.

"No."

Joyce pressed the balls of her thumbs into her eyes. "C'mon Xander…it can't be that bad…" _*Then again…*_ She removed her hands. She glared at the three girls. "What did you do?"

Buffy squirmed. "Errr…"

Willow ducked behind her wig, Amy shuffled her feet.

Joyce cleared her throat. "Xander…how bad is it?"

"They're _pink_ tights…"

Joyce crossed her arms at the three girls who were now sniggering. She very carefully did not laugh. She did not howl with mirth. She did not snigger. She was quite proud of that.

"Very well…Xander…put on your jeans and I'll ask Simon to take you and buy something appropriate for MacBeth to wear. Dave, are you ready?"

Dave's hesitant voice rang out. "Errr…can we make that two sets of clothing Ms. Summers? I know I agreed to this…but…raspberry?"

Willow turned to glare at Amy and Buffy who tried to look innocent. The sniggers ruined it. "Hey! No picking on Dave! He's doing us a favour."

Joyce's raised her eyebrows and sighed. "Just put on jeans as well Dave…I'm sure Simon can take _both_ of you shopping for chain mail later…"

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Cordelia Chase was worried. And it was not something that happened to her often. She walked into the Kendall's kitchen, rather surprised to see Mrs Kendall there, after all the woman did run the dental side of the beauty clinic.

"Mrs. Kendall?"

"Hello Cordelia. Come to see the sick?"

"Yeah…ummm…"

"Don't worry, you can go right up, the twins aren't there…would you like some juice? And do you mind bringing some to Meeny?"

She used the diminutive for her daughter that no one else, not even her sisters, was allowed to use. Cordelia sighed. She was lucky if her mother called her by anything less than her full name…the woman only spoke to her when she'd done something wrong it seemed. Sometimes she wished she could move in with the Kendalls…they might be absent a lot, but they did care about their children other than as walking tax deductions.

""Yes please."

Mrs Kendal handed her a tray with two glasses and a jar of fresh juice. "Cordelia…did anything…happen? Meeny's been worried…"

Cordelia shrugged. "Meh…some problems in the theatre…falling scenery, you get that with a lot of kids who don't know what they're doing."

"Ah…ok…well if that is all…"

Cordelia nodded and grinned as Mrs Kendall put two coconut macaroons on the tray as well. Macaroons were Harmony's favourite. "Thanks Mrs Kendall."

"You're welcome Cordy…I just hope she can keep it down."

Cordelia nodded and carried the tray up. She opened the door with her elbow and pushed it with her shoulder. Harmony was dozing but woke up immediately.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself…you don't look too bad…"

"I still feel sick."

"Yeah…Concussions will do that. Your mom wants you to eat something…hence macaroons!"

Harmony perked up, but only a little. "Nice…so how was school?"

"Real weird. Let me tell you about it…"

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The memorial service of Sidney Uriah Kofferman was attended by a small, select group in the park of Hooghwater Huis. Morgan Shay attended, as did the Slayer and her family, Dr Rupert Giles and Miss Jenny Calendar.

It was a bittersweet ceremony, but at least Sid had the last laugh. The demon had been held in the basement at Hooghwater while Sid had a last night of drinking whisky mixed with furniture wax, together with Rupert Giles, Patrick Madison and Simon Meier, though the latter two had only drunk water and tea. Rupert felt a little wistful about it. The old Dummy demon hunter had been surprisingly good company.

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Aphrodisia Evans was in the girls' locker room when what later would be called the 'incident' occurred. Standing under the shower, trying to touch as little of the walls, floor or anything else in the tiled room as possible Aphrodisia let the warm water run over her, washing away the sweat of her dance training. All the other girls had left already but Aphrodisia hated communal showering. She might be the last student in the school, even… She might not like PE, but the dance sessions were fun. She hoped that Emily would be alright…the girl was not part of the inner circle…but she was a friend…yeah...she'd go and visit Emily later. Suddenly the hot water turned off and only a spray of cold struck her.

"Eeee!" Aphrodisia glared and tried to find whoever had turned of the hot water. Seeing no one she merely grunted, turned of the water and walked to her towel, starting to dry her hair. Wrapping another towel around her she went into the locker room. She stood before her open locker as she towelled herself of when she felt something catapult her forward, into the locker. Her hanging clothes fell around her and she bumped her head, first on the metal shelf and then on the back of the big locker. Slightly dazed she felt her arms being cruelly twisted behind her back and…oh God…handcuffs!

Aphrodisia kicked back and heard a slight grunt as she felt resistance but not enough to have scored a full hit. The handcuffs clicked closed. Aprhodisia struggled but couldn't dislodge her attacker. A small cold hand shoved a pair of gymsocks in her mouth. Her own, clean, thank god. She waited tensely for what she knew would come next…she felt the tears starting…She hadn't even gone to second base yet…and here…now…

She was shoved roughly into the locker, feeling the cold metal of the door against her back. She heard the spin of the combination lock. A soft tinkling laugh filled the locker room. And that was how she was found, naked, shivering and crying, several hours later, after her parents had called her in missing.

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"Didja hear about Aphrodisia? She was attacked in the locker room yesterday…they locked her up too!"

Cordelia Chase listened to the gossip with a worried face. Aphrodisia was on the outskirts of the Cordettes mostly…but she was a part of her circle. So far there had been two quite serious attempts on her and one on Harmony…all three had come way to close for comfort. She shook herself. It had to be a couple of pranksters…Why would anyone want to kill them? Sure, they were cool and all, but not worth killing. Kidnapping, yes, killing, no.

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Ginger Curtis walked along the corridor avoiding the area that was being painted when she was struck by a large bucket of paint on her shoulder. She cried out, but the scream only lasted a moment, until another bucket was emptied over her, covering her from head to toe with the sticky yellow paint used to give the hallways of Sunnydale High just that touch of home. There was a soft tinkle of laughter as Ginger started to cry underneath the bucket, rivulets of paint mixing with her tears.

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"Didja hear about Ginger? Someone dropped a paint can on her shoulder and it broke her clavicle! And the paint is so bad; she had to cut her hair off!"

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"Do you think it's something supernatural?" Buffy asked worriedly.

"I don't know…I mean…considering everybody they pick on? There's more than a few seniors who'd love to take a little vengeance on the Cordettes…and almost all of the juniors…" Willow answered. She didn't add that she felt a little vengeful herself sometimes.

"This could be bad Wills…I mean…that bucket, it was like five gallons…I don't like Ginger…but I'd like it even less to find her with her brains splattered on the wall…"

Willow winced. "Yeah…there is that…errr. I don't know Buffy. I mean they're popular girls…but nobody really likes them… If you get me?"

"Yeah…been there…done that…Right…Do you think we ought to tell mom?"

Willow picked at her lip. "Probably yeah. I just hope they don't decide to send in the BeeGee's…I mean them parking outside the school is bad enough…coming in with us? So much not of the cool…"

Buffy giggled. "BeeGee's? Where did that one come from?"

"Xander made it up…and Hurst made him do twenty push ups…"

"Ah…best not use it too much then Wills…"

"Fair point. Only where they can't hear us…"

Buffy giggled.

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Emily Djiemanowicz sighed as he lay on her back in her bed at home. She should be practicing for the talent show with her girls…she knew something had happened to Aphrodisia…She heard footsteps on the stairs. And then a knock.

"C'min!"

Her mother entered, looking amused. "You've got guests…"

Emily looked confused. "I do?"

"Yeah…a Buffy Summers, her little sister Dawn and a large envelope of photographs…of Mikhail Baryshnikov…"

Emily brightened up considerably. Her afternoon was looking a lot better already…

**End note:**

**As you can see, Marc got nowhere…all his victims lived! Trust me, this will not always be the case. These were special circumstances.**

**Cordelia and Harmony are possibly OOC…this is because as far as I know Miss Kendall had no little sisters in the series…and they mellowed her considerably. And here she and Cordelia are real friends. **


	35. Quiet week and Wading pools of vengeance

**Author's note: **

**Thanks to all my reviewers as well. As always, more reviews are welcome.**

**Thanks****to****all****those****on****who****are****tracking****me****and****my****stories,****I****'****ll****try****to****update****here****a****bit****more****frequently****as****well.**

_Chapter 36: Quiet week and Wading pools of Vengeance_

The phone at the Gallery rang and Joyce picked up. "Sunnydale Fine arts, how may I help you?"

"Hello Joyce, how are you?'

"Mom? I'm fine. Is anything wrong?"

"Yes and no dear. I called Arlene on Monday."

"Yes…" _*Oh__great__Arlene__went__ballistic?*_

"Who told me she'd be by this weekend…"

"Yes…"

"And your eldest sister called. Joyce, can James and I come by this weekend? With Clarice, she had a breakdown, a friend of hers thinks its post traumatic stress disorder, and well, she really enjoyed herself last week…" Cecilia sounded uncertain yet hopeful.

_*Ahhh__…__Therapy__for__Clarice__…__*_ "Mom! It's fine. All three of you are welcome. More than welcome. When will you be here?"

"Friday evening, dinner time. Clarice sleeps really well on the backseat. We noticed that when we got her from San Diego. She'll need to talk to Simon about help; you know her medical leave."

"I'll talk to him about it, mom. He can pull in some of those favours he's owed and never cashes in."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome mom. I'll call Charlotte later and ask if she wants to be there too."

"I love you honey, and I'm proud of you. And I'm sorry."

"Mom…"

"Joyce, I told you I'd be saying it for a while, and considering what I did, that might just be the rest of my life."

"I love you mom, see you Friday."

Joyce hung up. About twenty minutes later the phone rang again.

"Sunnydale Fine arts, how may I be of service?"

"Joyce? It's Prue, You know, err…"

"Prue, yes, I seem to recall an annoying cousin Prue…" Joyce teased. "My memory isn't that bad yet."

There was a chuckle, even if it was slightly nervous. "First I'd like to thank you ever so much for setting up a meeting with the Bealls'. And I'm supposed to give you their regards and thanks for the flowers and that you sent them while you were having such a difficult time yourself, and they're letting me catalogue the collection and we're putting on an exhibition, including the Korea ware!"

"Prue, deep breath." _*Apparently__the__babble__gets__reinforced__from__both__sides__of__the__family__…__Poor__Willow__…__*_

She heard the breath being taken. "I'm sorry I'm just so excited, but ummm, can I ask another favour?"

"What Prue?"

"Well the Sunnydale Museum will be putting on a special on the Inca's in a couple of months, and I promised I'd help…and errr…well, there's no budget…"

"How long do you need a place to stay, Prue? "

"A couple of days after Halloween? To begin with?" There was a noise in the background that sounded awfully like "Me too!"

"Was that Piper?'

"Yeah…ummm."

"We've got enough spare rooms dear, and Simon still has that apartment, and then there's the manor…" She rolled her eyes at the thought of the manor.

"Phew thanks, I'm really sorry but. Wait, manor?"

"It's really not a problem Prue. If Phoebe and Aunt Penny want to come to, let them. We'll just break out the camp beds again for the weekend. And we can show you the manor while you visit."

"You're the best, Joyce!" There was another whisper of "Intern!" and Prue groaned.

"Joyce, err…"

"I heard Prue." Joyce's voice was amused. "An intern?"

"Yeah, a girl from Lima who won some sort of prize, Amata something or other. "

"Juarez!" Piper supplied

"Well you're all welcome, but remember, all work and no play."

"Oh, we want a rematch, and we'll bring our own supersoakers this time!"

Joyce chuckled. "I look forward to it. Let me know when you think you'll be there…"

"Thanks again, Joyce! Bye!"

"Bye Prue, bye Piper."

Joyce hung up, shaking her head. If they had family gatherings like this more often, she might have to convince Simon to move to the Manor…

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"Ummm, Willow/" Dave asked as he carried Willow's bookbag to the exit of the school.

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind…ummm…could I take you somewhere. The Espresso Pump maybe?"

"Ummm…that wouldn't be wise…err mom and dad have banned me from caffeine…so not unless, it's you know, like hot chocolate?" She looked hopeful. "I-If that's okay with you?"

"Willow, it's not the drink that matters, it's the company. Tonight?"

Willow blushed, but happily. She reached out and took his hand as they walked down the stairs towards the waiting car. Joyce grinned at the sight, but carefully hid it as Willow got in.

"Heya mom." Willow kissed her mother's cheek. "Buffy not here?"

"No, she took Dawnie to visit Emily."

"Oh, about…" Willow fluttered her lashes, put her folded hands to the side of her tilted face and sighed theatrically. "_Mikhail_…" in a dreamy voice.

"Yes, Mikhail." Joyce smiled amused at her middle daughter's antics.

"Well, Emily can't run so she has a captive audience."

"I doubt Emily minds, she seems to be a ballet enthusiast."

"Yeah, true. Mom?"

"Yes dear?"

"There's something Wiggy going on, stuff dropping on people. Attacks, but nobody's there…"

Joyce stiffened. "On you? Or Buffy? Xander?"

"No, other girls. Cordelia, Harmony, the other Cordettes."

"Hmmm, not the nicest girls in school could be poltergeist activity, what with this being the hellmouth and all…"

Willow blinked. "M-Mom?"

"Really Willow, did you think I'd stop at Vamp 101?" Joyce gave her an amused if arch look.

"No, it's just…"

"Weird?"

"Yeah."

"I've got a Slayer and a witch for daughters, who fight demons, on a Hellmouth?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Well. We'll tell your Dad over dinner and you did tell Giles?"

"Well, he's in the school; he thinks poltergeists might be it too."

"Want to bet your chores that's going to be your dad's first guess too?" Joyce asked teasingly.

"Nope. I'd lose. And I need the money for extra memory."

"Pity…" Joyce winked.

Willow rolled her eyes.

"So tell me exactly what happened." By keeping to the Poltergeist activity Joyce managed to keep her silence about the subject of Dave until they were both seated at the kitchen island at home.

"So…"

"Yes?" Willow eyed her mother with suspicion. That tone of voice boded ill.

"Carrying your books?"

Willow flushed. "I-its just...you know…"

"Sorry, It's just…I'm…Oh no…I'm being my mother…"Joyce groaned and hit her head on island top.

Willow blinked? "What?"

"Living vicariously, I mean. I would have _killed_ for cute boyfriend to carry my books while I was in High school…"

"Boyfriend? We haven't even dated yet! O-or kissed!" Willow blushed.

Ah, but you want to." Joyce teased.

"DAD!" Willow called out.

Joyce blinked at her daughter's determined expression.

Simon came in quite hastily. "Anything wrong?"

Willow pointed at Joyce. "Mom wants vicarious smoochies, I think the real thing might help her forget." She smirked triumphantly at the blushing Joyce.

Simon gave her a look. "Smoochies, Willow? Should I be having a word with Mr. Kirby?"

"Errr…Nothing's happened yet." Simon looked sceptical. "DAD! You're not going to scare off Dave!"

"Of course not dear, I'm merely going to send to the nearest Army depot for the nastiest gun they have, an M25 sniper rifle should do."

"DAD!" This time Willow sounded quite anxious.

Simon smiled and ruffled her hair. "Don't worry Willow, he broke through a demon's thrall for you, I can't but approve."

"Oh…OH!" Willow's smile lit up the room. "That was his pure motive?"

"You mean you hadn't guessed?"

Willow shook her head, still beaming. "No…Mom? Dad? David asked met to the Espresso Pump, tonight, I err…"

Joyce gave her an amused look. "Willow as long as your homework is done and you're home on time, and you follow the safety rules, there's no problem with you going out at night."

"Cool! Thanks!"

"Well then, I'll go give your mother smoochies and you can go and call Dave."

Willow nodded happily and left, humming. Joyce was about to object when Simon murmured about stopping her mouth with a kiss and immediately suited his action to his words.

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Willow scowled at Buffy. "You don't have to take me to the Pump! I can walk quite well by myself!"

"Yup."

"I'm not a little girl you know!"

"Nope!"

"I can do this on my own!"

Buffy turned to her. "Yes. And mom very specifically told me to take you here and in two hours time someone you _know_ will come and pick you up…in a car…and you will not have taken a walk in a dark, romantic park with Dave. Because I like having you for a sister and don't want to loose you. Capisce?"

Willow swallowed. "Oh…"

"Yes. I'm not going to hang around and crimp your style Wills, just keeping you safe, okay?"

'' 'Kay…it's just…"

"Your first sorta semi date?"

"Yeah…" Willow fingered the hem of her shirt nervously.

"It'll be fine Wills. Just fine."

They reached the Espresso Pump and Willow spotted Dave. Squeezing Buffy's hand she went inside.

"Hey."

"Hey. You look very pretty."

"Thank you."

"I'll get you a hot chocolate."

"With Marshmallows!"

"With marshmallows." Dave winked.

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The Bronze was humming. Paula and Kellie (With i-e!) were checking out the boys. Cordelia was dancing with a college boy but that was just a touch too high for Paula and Kellie to aspire to yet.

The Rosenberg girl was dancing with Dave the Nerd and seemed to think the world of him, the poor deluded little fool.

"Look at the little bitch, thinks she has the hottest guy in town tied to her apron strings."

"She is dressing better though, is it true she's living with the Buffreak?"

"Think so yeah…she and that Harris kid…"

"Can you imagine living in the same house as those two? You'd have to, like, fumigate the bedrooms every week!"

Neither of them expected to be pushed face first into the bowls of dip in front of them. The sodas poured down their shirts didn't help either.

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Willow was speaking and Dave was sitting next to her with the lines in his lap, murmuring encouragement. Her fiery hair and his light brown were lit by the setting sun and Buffy, hiding on the porch swing listened in with slight envy.

"A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap,  
And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:-  
'Give me,' quoth I:  
'Aroint thee, witch!' the rump-fed ronyon cries.  
Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger:  
But in a sieve I'll thither sail,  
And, like a rat without a tail,  
I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do."

Willow looked up anxiously. "How was that?"

"Excellent Willow! You've got it down perfectly!"

"So…ummm does that mean I get a reward?"

Dave blinked. "It might, what did you have in mind? I can get you some Ice cream; I think your mother put some in the freezer. But I don't know if we're allowed to take it."

Buffy rolled her eyes._*Clueless.*_

"Ummm…I was thinking of something you know…romantic?"

"I'm not taking you out after dark Willow…I'm no match for a vampire and neither are you…We could…sit on the couch and have hot chocolate?"

Buffy groaned. *_What__does__he__need,__Wiley__E.__Coyote__jumping__up__and__down__with__a__sign__saying__kiss__her,__stupid?*_

"Dave…"

"Willow, we haven't dated yet, not really, we've done nothing but rehearse the scenes and talk computers and been to the Pump and the Bronze once." He smiled.

"And I respect you too much to kiss you, just yet, no matter how much you think you might want to. I want you to be certain…mmfffff!"

Buffy grinned from her position hiding on the porch swing. _*Atta__girl,__Wills!*_

Willow's voice sounded cheery, if a little breathless. "I'm certain! A-a-and that wasn't too bad now was it?"

"No, it was wonderful…" Dave sounded dazed, but happy.

"That's good, because I haven't you know, ever done anything like it before, kissing I mean, well not unless you count the time I kissed Xander, but we were five then and so that really doesn't count. He was my first b-boyfriend too, but now he's my brother so you needn't worry and of course we were five too, and it ended when he and Jesse took my Barbie to try their cannibal ripping people apart thing…I got most of her back though…mfffff!"

Buffy grinned again. _*Now__there__'__s__a__method__of__stopping__Willow__babble__we__haven__'__t__tried__before__…__*_

A shadow fell over her and she looked up into her mother's amused face. "Willow?" Joyce mouthed and pointed to the kitchen door. Buffy nodded. Joyce looked up, too a few steps off the porch and tilted her head. There was a slight scramble on the balcony over the kitchen window and Buffy grinned. Apparently Dawn had been listening in too…with Xander no doubt seated with an empty glass against the basement door, and Simon in living room with the door open. All in all this had to be the most listened into blossoming romance she'd ever heard of…

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It was finally Friday. The school bus had been warm and stuffy and the teens that walked up the road to 1630 Revello drive were hot and annoyed. Buffy blew a strand of sweaty hair from her face and looked at the others. Willow looked decidedly damp and wilted, her hair clinging to her face. Amy looked red and flustered, Xander was huffing and puffing. A remark about the male strength to deal with adversity during PE had led to him carrying a grand total of four book- and four gym bags. And Willow and Amy carried a _lot_ of books.

"God it's hot." Buffy scowled as she tried to lift her shirt from her damp, sweaty body. She took her purse of her shoulder and threw it at Xander, who barely managed to catch it on the bag he was carrying against his chest. "Carry this, manly man."

Xander whimpered. Amy and Willow grinned. "Yeah Xander, deal with the adversity." Amy teased.

Willow put a hand to her forehead and affected a southern accent. Badly. "Aid us poor weak females! Ah! Oh Rhett! You're so tough and heroic, carrying our bags."

Xander growled. "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."

Willow's phone rang. She answered. "Y'hello?"

"Willow? We need to talk about the way you pick up a phone young lady."

"Sorry mom." Willow looked sheepish.

"Honey, I'm sorta stuck here for a bit yet, there's a buyer interested in some major pieces…And I haven't even begun on the Junk room. And Simon will come to pick me up later. So it will be Chinese tonight or pizza, be a dear and find out what everyone wants? Make sure Xander and Dawn don't eat all the left over donuts will you? Oh, and please go easy on the cheese."

"Sure mom, I'll hide the Twinkies too!" She kept her fingers crossed while she thought about going easy on the cheese.

Xander screeched. "NO! Not my Twinkies!" He started to run, still burdened with all the bags. The girls giggled. Willow said goodbye to Joyce and hung up.

"Not a manly man, more a pregnant camel man." Amy's remark made Willow and Buffy burst into laughter.

Xander arrived at the arch between the house and what was now called Willow's annex huffing and puffing, but before the girls. He dropped the bags on the back porch and hurried inside to safeguard his Twinkies.

In the Tree house the enemy saw him and ignored him…the primary target was approaching, unaware of the danger she was in. The being lying in ambush grinned ferociously. This was going to be…good.

Buffy, Amy and Willow walked under the arch and towards the kitchen door when the enemy struck. The stream of water struck Buffy first, soaking her from head to foot, then moved on to Willow, drenching the squealing redhead thoroughly and then hit Amy, who'd tried to move out of the way but failed. Once Amy was wet through it moved back to Buffy.

Buffy spluttered a shout through the raging torrent. "DAWN FLORENCE SUMMERS! YOU ARE SOOOOOO DEAD!"

Dawn's evil cackle resounded through the garden. Buffy ran at the tree and climbed the well built ladder quickly. The stream of water followed her, but did not hit the fast moving Slayer. The petite blonde was up the tree before the rope ladder fell out of the window. Dawn skimmed down and fell straight into the arms of Willow and Amy.

Buffy dove through the window and somersaulted, landing lightly. Dawn glared. "Show off."

"You evil little sneak!" Buffy mustered her sister and friend. "Vengeance?"

Willow had a hand firmly on Dawn's one arm, Amy held the other. "Dire and terrible vengeance!" Willow intoned in her awful witch voice, her long red tresses dripping water.

"Horrible atrocious vengeance!" Amy echoed, equally grim. Dawn gulped, looking from the one to the other, seeing no mercy in their faces.

Buffy crossed her arms, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Wading pool? With ice?"

The other two girls grinned, Dawn started struggling. "Hey! No fair!"

Willow and Amy held on to the whimpering ten year old. "Fill it up, Buffy. We've got her."

Amy gave the smaller girl a look. "We may as well give her the hose first."

"NO! Hey, it was joke guys! Buff! I'm sorry! Willow?"

Buffy went into the garage and returned with a foot pump and a wading pool, putting them on the lawn and started to inflate it. Dawn tried running but was held firm. Xander came out, took in the scene, nodded sagely and sat down to eat Twinkies.

"XANDER! HELP!" Dawn wailed.

"Sorry Dawnie, what goes around comes around." He nodded at Willow and Amy. "You do know we've got five of those things?"

Buffy was pumping, her tongue tip between her teeth. "What things?"

"Wading pools."

"What? Why the heck do we have five wading pools? And why do you know?"

"Well, you brought in one from LA…and the rest were in the loft over the garage, the attic, the garage and the basement. Well, and there are three more that are leaking, at least that's what we think. Simon's found a patch set as well…going to try and fix them and put them in the yard sale…"

Dawn groaned. "Xander!"

"You know Buff, this might go faster if we did some pumping too, we can have one each and dunk her in turn." Willow noted, while both firmly holding her youngest sister's arm and gently stroking her long golden brown hair affectionately.

Dawn shivered abjectly. "Willow!"

"Should've thought about this before you executed your brilliant plan, Dawn." The redhead smiled down at the little girl. "You know; actions and reactions, acts and consequences."

"I can't swim?" Dawn ventured.

Buffy snorted. "Like a fish can't. And these are wading pools. And we'll be holding you."

"Oh, yeah that makes it better." Dawn pouted. "Xander?"

Xander looked at his Twinkie with calculation. "Do you remember how many of these mom said she had this morning?"

Dawn gulped. "F-four packets…"

"Yeeesss…and how many are left, including the one I'm holding now?"

"I was hungry." Dawn whined.

"Three packets of Twinkies hungry?" Xander sniffed the Twinkie as if it were a fine cigar, rolling it lightly under his nose.

"I was practicing eating them the proper way?" Dawn tied hopefully.

Buffy and Willow both turned to look at their younger sister. "You ate three packets of Twinkies?"

Buffy hummed as she picked up her pumping. "Xander, did you find any more pumps as well?"

Xander nodded and rose. "Yeah sure Buff, they're in the basement, I'll get them."

Dawn looked shocked. "Xander!"

"The way I look at it Dawnie, this is going to happen anyway, and this way there'll be a couple of wading pools filled and we can each stretch out in one."

Calculating looks filled the eyes of all four girls, even Dawn's. "Okay, why did all of us smart empowered women have to wait for Pregnant Camel Man to have that thought?" Buffy whined, winking at Xander.

Xander winked back. "Hey, us pregnant camels like to get the weight of our feet and soak." He walked whistling to the kitchen, to get the other wading pools from the basement.

Dawn tried a new tack. "I shouldn't swim after eating?"

Willow grinned wickedly. "Oh trust us little sister, there will be no swimming involved…"

Dawn gulped again, her dark blue eyes looking for pity in the emerald and sapphire depths that looked down at her, and finding none.

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Dawn had been dunked to everybody's satisfaction, even, eventually, Dawn's. There had been a lot of tickling involved. And squealing, giggling, splashing, spluttering and laughing. Then, while the other pools filled with water they'd all showered changed into bathing gear and were now lounging in the pools under the spreading eaves of Dawn's tree.

"Man, this is good." Xander leaned his head on an old airplane neck rest he'd dug up and was wearing a pair of garish Hawaii swim boxers. Simon had neglected to take him buying those. He sipped on a bottle of Sprite.

Willow was wearing an elegant dark blue one-piece swim suit that Joyce had insisted on buying and enough sun block to lubricate a battalion of Sherman tanks. She was sipping from a litre bottle of Farm apple juice, wearing a pair of Ray Bans she'd 'liberated' from Joyce's roll up desk. A small pile of cheese blocks was on saucer by the side of the pool. She hummed in agreement.

Buffy was in a red and blue one piece with high cut thighs and a pair of over large sun glasses of her own. Her litre bottle of coke was in the water with her and she was using a pair of water wings to try and keep her legs floating. "This is the life."

Amy was in one of Joyce's old suits, none of her friends being big enough to lend her one without resulting in severe embarrassment. It had obviously shrunk a bit in the laundry but was a splendid deep burgundy red. She was sipping at a bottle of coke as well and had a pair of rose tinted glasses on her nose. "Xander, if I had a hat right now, I'd take it off to you."

Dawn was wearing a one piece of a dark gold brown. The only one short enough to lie stretched in her wading pool she tried to float but failed. Her bottle of Fanta Orange was sitting in a bucket of ice. Mom was going to have serious words about the vast amounts of sugary liquids consumed but that was in the future…Dawn heard the car stop in front of the house and grinned. The others responded by sitting up or sinking deeper into the water. A car door opened. Footsteps were heard.

"Sounds like the 'rents are finally home." Xander drawled.

"After a long hot day at the office." Willow looked thoughtful and Dawn returned the look. Willow rose from the pond. Dawn sat up straighter so she could see better and then decided this was worth getting out of the pool for.

"Dad was going to put on his running clothes after work."

"Mom was going to begin clearing out the junk room; she took jeans and a T." Dawn spoke, grinning at what she thought Willow was going to do.

The redhead picked up the hose. Buffy looked on worriedly. "Guys…"

The footsteps sounded under the arch and Willow let loose the full power of the hose on the startled form of a woman unknown to Willow…clad in the uniform of a US Army major.


	36. Weekend warriors

**Author's Note:**

**A question: is this running too long? By which I mean should I skip a few months/weeks here and there and get further into the year? I can fit a few of the more interesting encounters in later seasons.**

**Thanks all for reviewing. And there will be no more long lost relatives of _Buffy_, I promise. Grin**

**Edited:****Many****thanks****to****djhardim****for****the****grammatical****and****spelling****corrections.**

**Glendon has created a forum for Waifs and Strays!**

**Waifs****and****strays****forum**

**Reviews are most welcome.**

_Chapter 38: Weekend warriors _

Simon groaned as he got up from the bed in the basement. For the first time since they'd first shared a bed he had slept apart from Joyce. Arlene had not been in a condition that Joyce had wanted to leave her alone. He could understand that. Clarice had been the same it appeared and had spent the night with her mother while James slept in another basement bedroom. Still groaning he dressed and walked up the stairs to the kitchen where he started on breakfast. Joyce came down a minute or so later and latched onto him.

"Did you sleep?"

"Not very well, no." He admitted.

"C-could it be the soul bond?"

"Or it's just we've become very accustomed to each other…"

"Soul bond is more romantic. Simon, what are you gonna make me wear?" She looked up seductively.

"It's a surprise."

"Simon, if you make me trot around dressed up as a playboy Bunny the basement bed will be a fixture in your life for a while…" Joyce threatened.

"You know, I never even considered that one. But I always considered myself better looking than Heffner…" He gave her an appreciative look. "Hmmm…Bunny."

Joyce groaned. "No!"

"Victoria's secret model…" Simon was now looking quite dreamy.

Joyce blushed. "_Simon_!"

"Maybe one of those fluffy nineteen fifties skirts…"

Joyce rolled her eyes, grabbed him and kissed him, just to shut him up. Silence reigned in the kitchen until a cleared throat disturbed their Moment. "If you produce more heat next to that fridge I think it'll break down. There's only so much ambient heat those things can take …"

Joyce very slowly took her lips from Simon's. Arlene stood in the door, wearing a pair of white slacks and a red t-shirt.

"You know…when Mom and Charlotte told me you were like this I though, not Joyce…but now…phew…"

Joyce lifted an eyebrow. "We think it's the soul bond."

Arlene snorted. "Sure, and my name is Giggety Tishpoodle."

"Well good morning then Miss Tishpoodle, but we may as well make breakfast now. The mood is entirely gone…"

Arlene flushed. "Errr…do I want to know what would've happened if I hadn't come in?"

Joyce grinned wickedly. "Well, ordinarily none of the children would be up for an hour yet…"

Arlene held up her hands in defeat, flushing red. "I give! Uncle! Oh God, the visuals…"

"Well you asked. I'm sorry honey, no time for the _breakfast__bar_ this morning." Joyce gazed apologetically at Simon.

"That's alright sweetheart, we can do the thing with the egg whisk and the wet celery tomorrow."

Arlene winced. The problem was she wasn't entirely sure they were joking.

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The sound of a car pulling up on the road got the attention of Dawn, who'd been sitting brooding on the porch look up. There were three 'thunks' as the doors of the car opened and closed. Charlotte, Harry and Celia exited, Charlotte running up the path and steps and into the house. Dawn rolled her eyes at the "Lolly!" And "Joyly!" that resounded over the front lawn.

"Heya Puffball."

Dawn scowled at Celia. "I hate those nicknames! My name is Dawn!" She got up and stomped inside and up the stairs.

Celia blinked after her, then looked at Joyce who seemed as clueless as Celia herself. "What's wrong with Dawn?"

"I don't know Celia; she's been a bit off all week."

"Oh well…ummm…so…are we going to the park this afternoon?" She put down the bag she was carrying and took out a brand new super soaker. "I got myself some Army boys to shoot…"

Joyce grinned. "Oh, yes we will be going there. We'll miss team P, but it still should be fun."

Arlene looked at the Supersoaker and her wickedly smiling sisters. "Okay…what did I miss?"

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Simon, Harry and Patrick were hiding behind a small wooden palisade. "I'm getting the odd notion that when we used our superior weaponry last time we may have slightly annoyed the ladies." Harry said deadpan.

"Ya thunk?" Patrick rose over the palisade to fire of a stream of water, then ducking down again.

"And Clarice and Arlene are having way too much fun with this." Simon said.

"Charlotte and Joyce seem to be more than a little enthusiastic…" Harry said.

Patrick rose again. "Yeah."

"We may have over played our hand." Simon winced as a loud whooping yell sounded.

"Ya thunk?" Patrick said again.

"Patrick…"

"Yeah Harry?"

"Stop saying that and use your big water gun, will ya?"

Patrick grinned and fired again.

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"Gentlemen, we are losing this battle and so we need to change our tactics." Simon said, wiping sweat of his brow.

Patrick and Harry gave him a look. "Yeah, and what did you have in mind?" Patrick asked.

"Well, since the young ladies have joined up with the even younger ladies…" Simon rubbed the slight bruise on his upper arm that had been the result of a slightly less complimentary way to describe his sister and her younger siblings. "I suggest we make a spirited run at them and take out as many of them as we may…and damn the torpedoes."

"You want us to storm them and dump them in the fountains." Harry smiled.

"Yes. Unless you have a better idea?"

"Not really, us males are far in the minority here, so honourable combat isn't working. I'll take Charlotte…"

"Joyce, of course."

Xander grinned at the pleading look on Dave's face. "I'll abnegate my Bestest Friend and big brother privileges and go for Amy or Dawn."

Patrick lifted an eyebrow and Xander's grin faded. "Dawn?"

Pat nodded and Xander did as well, sidling away from the marine. "So-not-a-baby-sis it is."

Dave grinned sheepishly. "Willow?"

Simon gave him a glare. "Just make certain no hands stray where they should not…"

Dave gulped. "Yes, sir!"

"I'll tackle 'Ris." Patrick said and felt the glare move to him. He fidgeted. "Errr…no hands will stray."

"They'd better not…" Simon said darkly.

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Patrick Madison had been in the Marines and knew how to fight. Clarice Starling was a trained FBI agent. The problem was that she stood a magnificent five feet and three and a half inches in stockings. And Patrick stood six feet six and had a matching physique. So despite her excellent physical condition and training, Clarice found herself thrown bodily over his huge shoulder and then tossed easily into one of the pools in the Water Park. 

"PATRICK! You'll suffer for that!" The furious form of Clarice rose from the pool, dripping bile and swearing vengeance.

Clarice blinked. Arlene jumped at Patrick from behind but the ex marine seemed to have a sixth sense for he stooped and Arlene went flying over him, and was assisted, with a light tap, into the pool next to Clarice.

"Wow, he's good." Arlene managed as she surfaced.

"And strong."

"Both of us together?"

"I think we'd still end up in the pool, we're not Buffy, the size and weight difference is too great." Clarice said regretfully.

Patrick strode to the edge of the pool and held out his hands. Clarice eyed her sister. "You or me first?"

Patrick coughed and smiled. "Both." He grasped their hands and lofted them easily, the huge biceps clearly visible beneath his khaki shirt.

Clarice gulped eyes wide.. "Well, errr, yes, plenty of physical strength there…"

Arlene nodded. "A fine specimen of the male species. High."

Clarice nodded. "Low." And dove straight into Pat's legs, destabilizing him, while Arlene, standing on the pool edge, used his falling Momentum to tilt him over her back and into the pool.

The two sisters grinned as the big man surfaced. "That worked…errr…" Patrrick Madison rose out of the pool like Neptune and his face had about as much pity as the Roman deity had with fishermen who did not regularly sacrifice to him.

"Oh _Fubar_!" Were the last words Arlene spoke before being thrown about ten feet into the pool.

Clarice followed about half a minute later.

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Willow glared at Dave as she sat wringing out her long red hair on the bench below the spreading American oak. "You threw me in the pool! Twice!"

"Yes."

"And I got all wet and my shirt got all wet and my trousers and it was all clingy!"

"Yes." Dave grinned appreciatively and she poked him.

"Not funny."

"I love you Willow." He leaned in to kiss her and she looked at him with wide surprised eyes.

"Oh. Mhmmm. That's a bit sudden… "

"Not really. I've loved you since you were five years old and kicked Jesse in the shins and beaned Xander with what was left of your Barbie."

Willow blinked rapidly. "You…you…wow….errr…why didn't you errr…tell me sooner?"

Dave nodded towards where Xander and Dawn were pelting each other with water balloons. "I didn't think I'd stand a chance."

"Oh…Yeah…I was pretty clueless for a while there… "

Dave smiled and kissed her again.

Arlene and Clarice looked at the kissing young couple. Harry and Charlotte, both wet through, were sitting very close on another bench.

"Simon and Joy?"

"I think they're in the play castle."

"Mom and Dad?"

At home…Mom's started cooking."

So…want to throw a coin for Patrick?" Clarice smiled at her sister.

"No…I have things to do, finish…before."

"I was joking Arlene."

"No you weren't." Arlene looked aside with a leer. "I saw you watching. And he's nice. He can be silly."

"Yeah…just what I want, a silly guy."

"Clarice, you don't have to marry him immediately, you could start with a coupla dates."

"Arlene, I'm not really at my best right now."

"And he only recently was liberated from mind destroying spells cast by his ex." Arlene pointed out.

"Yes but…"

"Yeesss…Butt. Nice tight one too." Arlene grinned appreciatively.

"ARLENE!"

"Oh come of it 'Ris. I've seen you watch him."

"Okay. Maybe one date."

"'Ris, he's coming our way. And he's got a daisy chain." Arlene said with amusement in her voice.

"A daisy chain?"

"Well, you see any other flowers around here?"

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Buffy and Amy were skating rocks over a pool.

"Feh."

"Double feh." Amy nodded at the happily kissing Willow and Dave. "Totally unfair, I mean here we are, two perfectly gorgeous girls, and we don't have a neat boyfriend to snuggle up to."

"Yeah, I mean it's completely bad of Wills to rub our singlenessness-y in our faces. And with a cute boy who give her cheese and poetry. And flowers."

"Helps his Mom runs a florist shop. And singlenessness-y is not a word even in California. "

"Yeah, but they deal mostly in wreaths. And can be if I say so." Buffy sniffed.

"Heh. Yeah. Oh no…"

"What?"

"My Dad's going over to your aunts, and he's carrying a daisy chain…" Amy groaned.

Buffy goggled. "Daisy chain? The he..ck?"

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"Clarice…ummmm…I made this for you…"

"A daisy chain?"

"Well, I was going to go to the Rosarium and get you a rose, but the Keeper there is really scary." Patrick smiled disarmingly.

Arlene exchanged looks with Clarice. It was the elder sister who answered. "You're a six foot six, two hundred pound former marine…and you're scared of a gardener?"

"You haven't met her."

"Her?"

"Ummm…yes….errr…do you want the Daisy chain? And err…maybe we could go to the Espresso Pump after you've had dinner with your family?"

"You're invited too, remember?" Clarice looked down. "And yes. To both." She added in a rather more uncertain voice.

Arlene grinned like the Cheshire cat.

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"Okay, so Aunt Arlene's daughter, our cousin, is somewhere in Sunnydale and dropping vats of paint on people." Buffy said thoughtfully. "So we need to find out where she lives and how she does it."

Xander nodded. "Well, she has to be a pupil, we can't really run around the school and look for her, at least not during class hours…" He looked hopefully at Joyce who very firmly shook her head no. He grinned. "Worth a try."

Willow rubbed her chin. "Ok, she should be a sophomore like did she go before Sunnydale High? I mean, she was born in '81? She could have been in our class in elementary…" She looked at Xander and Amy who both shook their heads.

"Wills, with the number of people dying and disappearing here…We don't even know who she is."

Buffy pursed her lips. "And we don't know if she needs to be close to pull what she does…or even if she's still alive."

Arlene sobbed and Buffy sprang up to hug her. "I'm sorry Aunt Arlene, I'm sorry!"

James looked on as Buffy, and then Cecilia comforted their aunt and daughter. He pulled his lip. "Is it possible for a vampire to use magic?"

Simon shrugged. "Not to my knowledge, but most vampires lack the control to turn a magic user, the blood makes them drunk or something. It may be possible, but you'd need a powerful vamp capable of fighting his instincts long enough to Sire."

James nodded thoughtfully. "Well then, is there a list of errr…those no longer with us?"

Willow perked up. "Yearbook! She'll be in the yearbook proofs!" Running upstairs Willow returned quickly from her room with the proofs of the yearbook.

"Let's see…obituary pages…missing person pages…Buffy, do you have the master list?"

Buffy nodded and ran upstairs as well, retuning with a set of printed papers.

Clarice looked her question and Buffy shrugged. "All the missing, all those we are certain of are dead…are on here. The master list."

Willow took the list and started comparing it to the one in the proofs.

"Ascetica Harrow, Ginevra Burbage, Clementine Hollow…Errmmm…Dad you may want to look at these lists later. I think there may be a _lot_ of old magical families in Sunnydale."

"Something we're aware of, but yes…" His eyes were filled with pain for a moment.

"Marcie Ross…anyone remember her?

Amy shrugged. "Sorry, I forget, wasn't the easiest time for me, beginning of the year."

Buffy looked guilty. "I err…had other things to think about as well…"

Xander closed his eyes remembering. "Marcie…she…disappeared the week Dad came for his holidays. She was…quiet…she went to elementary school with us I think…nobody took much notice of her…Except that the Cordettes were their usual nasty selves…" He opened his eyes. "It might be her."

"She ought to be in here, we took the pictures early…" Willow started leafing through the proofs again, this time in the photo part.

Joyce looked at her proudly and could feel the amused glances of her sisters. Willow leafed through the book, Xander and Amy looking over her shoulder.

All three lighted upon the picture at the same time. A pixie like dark haired girl with pale skin and light freckles and a serious expression she tried to hide behind a shy smile.

"That's her, Marcie Ross." Willow said softly, before turning the book around and showing her trembling aunt. Cecilia had risen and put an arm around her second eldest.

"She looks like a mix of Celia and Buffy." Cecilia looked between the two girls.

"She had red hair…" Arlene ran a finger over the photo. "This girl…"

"Dyed." Buffy, Amy and Celia said at the same time.

Joyce lifted an eyebrow. "The experts have spoken."

"HEY!" All three girls chorused and then they blushed in unison.

"It's just easy to spot, okay?" Buffy finally managed.

"Of course honey. Now, how do we get Arlene into the school?"

Dawn raised her head from where she'd been reading in one of her notebooks. "Let her volunteer to help with the talent show." She said it in a bored, resigned voice, as if the answer was obvious and they were all stupid beyond belief. She turned back to the notebook, scowling and scribbling, looking tense.

The adults and teens looked at each other. "Yes, that might work. Well done Dawnie." Joyce said. Dawn's only answer was a grunt.

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Arlene and Clarice very carefully went into the kitchen the next morning. James and Cecilia were at the island and the room was otherwise empty.

"Thank god." Clarice said.

Cecilia grinned. "Language Clarice. And they're out on the porch swing…necking."

"We should get them each a shirt. With the Eveready bunnies on it." Clarice said with a grin.

"Urgh." Arlene shook her head.

Cecilia smiled, but her eyes were sad. Arlene never had felt the sort of passion Joyce did now, unless it was with Jack, and they'd never met him or even seen him.

"Charlotte and Harry are on the front porch swing…" James deadpanned. The elder sisters sighed.

"And Patrick called…if maybe you'd like to get a cup of coffee before we leave, Clarice…" James added and grinned at the slight blush on Clarice's face.

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"Simon, can we talk?"

"Cecilia? Of course." Simon put down the novel he was reading and his reading glasses as well. "What can I help you with?"

"I called Mary Beckforth."

"Yes, she hasn't really wanted to talk to me for…well since Eileen."

"I knew her when we were both younger. Simon, she's willing to help Joyce, but she also, well… she told me a great deal and said she'd travel here if we paid her expenses, she isn't very wealthy."

"Of course, by all means. Whatever she wants." Simon leaned forward eagerly. "I never expected her to, well, be helpful. Considering our last encounter…"

"She'd recently lost almost her entire family Simon, it tends to make a person unhappy." Cecilia said repressively.

"Yes…of course." Simon looked sheepish. "It was probably not the best of times to approach her."

"And that leads to another problem, she called me, yesterday evening."

"Really?"

"On my mobile. I got onefor Clarice, so she could call me…But that is not the point." Cecilia took a deep breath. "Eileen Beckforth is alive…she has a daughter…and to protect that daughter, who Mary says is one of the most powerful Mothers she's ever felt…she overloaded herself."

"Good lord…" Simon pinched the bridge of his nose. "The poor girl."

"Eileen, Mary says normal medicine will not save her…"

"You realize that she will still have to stand trial? Even if I do succeed? And healing the brain is difficult and I may fail."

Cecilia blinked. "You'd save her? Just like that?"

Simon gave her a sad look. "Cecilia…One of the Five died in my arms in an Institution, another I identified in the morgue after she jumped to her death from a third story window onto a spiked fence. I don't get any sort of chance of redemption very often. If I can give Eileen's daughter even a smidgeon of hope that her mother's death is not her fault. I will do it. After I evaluate her condition of course, magic can't cure everything."

Cecilia smiled. "Some days Simon, I can see very well why Joyce fell in love with you."

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Rupert Giles sat with the phone in hand and dialled an international number. It was answered on the third ring. "Henry."

"Philip Henry? It's Rupert Giles."

"Ripper? Gods, it's been years. Why are you calling?" The voice went suspicious.

"Good news. Someone I know knows how to break our bond with Eyghon. Something called a Ritual of Disavowal."

"And you trust him?"

"Remember that trouble with the internet a while back?"

"Yeah. Felt familiar…"

"Moloch the Corruptor, this person helped cast him out again."

"That sounds promising."

"Yes, the only problem is that it works better with all those or as many as possible at least, of the original circle there."

"Ah…I take you don't know anything about Ethan either?"

"Rumours, no more. Are you in?"

"Rupert, I have a wife and three children. I go to bed every night fearing that he will have enough power to come into my body as I sleep. Of _course_ I'm in."

"A wife and three children? Good lord."

"Not all of us are confirmed bachelors Ru…Deirdre got married and has a kid as well. So does Tom, which brings me to the point, do we have to come to you? Seems like you're over in the Colonies."

"Yes…well, I'll need to discuss that with the persons involved. Since he told me to first ask if any of you were interested…"

"I think you will find only happy agreement Rupert."

"Good. It was good to hear your voice again Phil. Hope to see you soon."

"You too. Take care Rupert."

"Take care."

Giles sat back and sighed, then dialled the next number.

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Principal Snyder sneered at the petite woman in front of him. "I'm afraid that unless you can give better references than the parents of Summers, Harris and Rosenberg, you are out of luck. I'm not going to let you run around this school just like that!"

Arlene Ellis prided herself on being a fair woman and a good judge of character. She hadn't made many mistakes in her judgement, the biggest being Jack. But she really, really did not like this man.

"Principal Snyder…If you want evidence of my bona fides you can call the Deans of Biology and Archaeology at Chicago University and my superiors at the Pentagon. I'm sure both institutions will be delighted to tell you I'm harmless _except__to__my__enemies_." She leaned forward slightly on the last sentence and smiled.

Snyder swallowed heavily. "Err…yes…err…while I do that…err…please feel free to see where you can offer the most help."

"Thank you…I think I'll begin with the theatre, and maybe help out in the biology classes. Good morning, Principal."

"Good morning. Ms. Ellis… "

"Professor…or Major…whatever you prefer…Principal Snyder."

"M-Major Ellis."

"Splendid…I'm sure we'll get along very well."

Arlene left, her staid dress rustling.

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Buffy grinned as her Aunt Arlene walked into the library. "Giles, this is my Aunt Arlene. Aunt Arlene, this is Rupert Giles, my Watcher."

Giles gave Buffy a long suffering look. "Does everybody you meet get to hear about your Calling?"

"It's not a calling Mr. Giles. A calling is something you volunteer for, not are volunteered for. Now, I have some experience with the supernatural and some with the organization of theatrics. I assume Buffy has told you I'm here to assist you in finding the invisible young woman?"

Giles took of his glasses and started polishing them. "Y-yes…errr…but errr. There may be risk involved and, well you know I would not want you to get urff…."

Giles found himself lying on the floor, his glasses held in Arlene Ellis' hand and her sensible shoe between his legs, rather too near the family jewels for his comfort. "One word about weak females getting hurt Mr. Giles, and there will be no little Giles's…and you can look for the bits without these…" She held up the glasses threateningly. Giles gulped and Buffy gawped.

"Wow…ummm Aunt Arlene? Can you teach me that move?"

"Sure Honey, get out the mat, but only if you have a Free."

Rupert Giles groaned and got up. _*Damn__Ellis__women__…__*_


	37. Repercussions and revenge

**Author's note:**

**Edited:****Many****thanks****to****djhardim****for****the****grammatical****and****spelling****corrections.**

**Glendon has created a forum for Waifs and Strays!**

**DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER UNTIL YOU'VE READ _THE__DEVIL__OF__SUNNYDALE__ELEMENTARY!_**

**Waifs****and****strays****forum**

**Reviews are most welcome.**

_Chapter 39: Repercussions and revenge_

**DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER UNTIL YOU'VE READ _THE__DEVIL__OF__SUNNYDALE__ELEMENTARY!_**

Gwen Ditchik was carefully studying her make up in the restroom the cool girls had claimed. The restroom that the losers only used at the risk of being verbally flayed by Cordelia and her friends. It was a free period for Gwen and she had taken the opportunity to reapply her armour. She smiled. Percy was a good as hers, he stood no chance.

She put her arms behind her back and pushed her breasts forward, trying poses to see which might be best suited to snare the boy. Suddenly she fell forward, pushed hard against the mirror, the glass breaking under the shock. Blood ran down her from a cut on her forehead face and covered some of the falling shards and the stunned girl felt her wrists being seized and cruelly bound together by tie wraps. A cruel, tinkling chuckle rang in her ears and she was turned round. She started to scream when the spray paint hit her clothes.

Arlene Ellis sat on the hard wooden chair in the school theatre and made a mental note to scrounge a pillow from her sister's garage as her butt was getting rather stiff.

POM POMP PEP POP PPPOOOO! The enthusiastic noise of a Tuba rang through the auditorium and Arlene winced. Used though she was to the sounds of brass bands practicing, this was not the quality of play she was used to. She made a note on her clip board and wondered if Dawnie had a particular hatred for her to suggest she help with this particular event.

That was when she heard the screaming, and she ran towards the noise.

She arrived in the bathroom to find a sobbing, pink painted blonde girl who obviously had been face down in a toilet bowl sitting on the floor. Three other girls were rather ineffectually trying to help the blonde. As Arlene knelt by the girl to check her for injuries a well set up dark haired girl entered carrying a pair of scissors.

"Okay Gwen, turn round and we'll get your arms free. Did ya see who did it?"

"No one…there was no one there…" Gwen gulped.

"Did any of the paint get in your eyes Gwen?" Arlene asked as she tried to stem the bleeding with toilet paper.

"No, I had them closed. I got paint in my mouth…my clothes are ruined…" Gwen wailed. "My shoes!"

Arlene handed Gwen over to the nurse and asked the wood shop teacher to supply white spirits to clean the girl. She found a seat in the back of the empty theatre. And cried.

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Jenny Calendar smiled as she received the mail from Willow. And then frowned. This was the second time the girl had sent her a message while she should be in class…She needed to have words with that young lady.

**These are Marcie's records. She's missing. Tell Dr. Meier, please.**

**I'm a good girl, see? Please? **

Jenny sighed and rubbed her face. "Who the hell is Marcie?" She muttered. She got up, glanced around the room and wrote the homework on the board, then ambled around helping students. She waited until a few minutes after the bell rang for break before walking to the library.

"Rupert?"

"Jenny, I'm in the office."

Jenny leaned against the doorjamb and saw the librarian lean back in his chair. "Hello."

"Hello. Did you manage to reach your friends? The ones you did not manage in the weekend?"

"Yes indeed, all but one, but he was the one I did not expect to find."

"Good, good. Ummm…Rupert? Willow sent me a mail, about a girl called Marcie, who's apparently missing?"

"Willow? Why would she do that? I understand that Simon was looking into that…" He pulled his lip.

"Simon? Since when is it Simon and not Dr. Meier?"

"Since we had a night of drinking with Sid and I confessed about Eyghon."

"Oh…I didn't realise things had gotten so, well, relaxed between the two of you."

"He…I'll try and explain later. It's complicated." He took off his glasses and started to clean them.

"You're not in some deep homo erotic male boarding school spanking fetish bonding or something together are you, English?"

Giles spluttered and dropped the glasses.

"What? No! Where do you get these ideas?"

"Wishful thinking? Two well set up men with canes…" Jenny put on an exaggeratedly wistful expression.

"_Jenny_! Really!" Giles was blushing furiously and Jenny grinned.

"Anyway, someone needs to talk to Willow. She can't just go off and hack into every place she feels like."

"True. I'll call her mother; she seems to have the most influence over the girl."

"Yeah, I can imagine, so, errr…"

"Yes?"

"Why did Willow send me the stuff about this Marcie?"

Giles perked up. "Ah that. Let me explain."

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Arlene sat at the kitchen island looking on as Joyce and Simon worried.

"She should have called…"

"Why would she run away? Lewis was right outside…"

"She's not with Janice I checked…"

And wondered if her little Evy ever had parents who worried about her so.

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Giles walked into the library on Tuesday morning to see the Slayerettes gathered at the table, looking tired and shaken.

"Buffy? Willow? Xander? What's wrong?"

Xander took a deep breath. "We're getting a new sister."

"Good lord? Ms. Summers is pregnant?"

Buffy grimaced. Xander looked thoughtful, a fact Giles noted. Willow giggled.

"No, though that would be really cool, I mean it would be awesome to have a real little baby sister like that, I mean wouldn't it be great Buffy? Or a brother? I mean I think Mom and Dad would love to!"

"Breathe, Wills." Buffy smiled. "No, Her name's Kit Holburn, she goes to school with Dawn, had to stake her Mom and has been living rough since May.

Giles sat down. "Good lord. The poor child."

"Yeah, and then Dawn's vigilante army beat her up. She's in hospital, it'll be a couple of weeks before she can go to school again but she'll be coming home at the end of the week; just in time for Halloween."

"Dawn's vigilante army?"

"Yup, she set up a group to fight Kit because she was a bully."

"Good lord."

"Yeah, you can say that again."

"Well, have we made any progress towards finding Miss Ross?"

"No, we're not even sure it's her yet."

The bell rang and the teens went off to class, still subdued. Rupert Giles sat back in his chair deep in thought. Then he shook himself and dialled the number for the Sunnydale Gallery.

"Ms. Summers? Rupert Giles. Miss Calendar and I are worried about Willow's computer use…"

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Dawn Leibovitch sat alone in the student lounge, blowing gum bubbles and allegedly studying French. She did not hear the stealthy footsteps approach as the music blared from her headphones. The bucket full of scummy water that was upended over her and then the bucket put over her head being hit very hard with a bat came as a surprise. The soft chuckle made shivers run down her spine even as she started to scream.

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Arlene Ellis swore softly as the sound of the flute dwindled away. She'd tried to follow it but even though the music was pervasive, its origin was hard to pinpoint. It also didn't help she was distracted. The whole thing with Kit had her on edge. She really wanted to find her daughter before Evy ended up killing someone or getting killed. She did know that a certain young lady would be getting a firm talking too. She sighed and walked along the hall, wondering what Simon had managed to find out.

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"Hello Kit, how are you?"

"Fine, thank you Ms. Summers." Kit looked up from the book she had been reading and Joyce blinked in surprise. _Profiling__the__criminally__insane_ was hardly the sort of title a ten year old could be expected to read.

"Isn't that a bit adult, Kit?" She shook her head remembering who she was talking to. "Actually, probably not." She walked over to the bed and kissed a surprised Kit on the forehead.

"It-It was Mom's last birthday gift. It was very expensive…" Kit hugged the book, as if she was afraid it would be taken away. Joyce sat by the bed and smiled.

"Kit, a few things. I'm not your real mother, your real mother did her utmost to make sure you had the very best life she could give you, she even saved up for you in a college fund. She was, and always will be your Mom. I will never try to replace her, but I hope that in time you may consider me, well, a proxy. I will never take any of the things she bought you away or belittle them."

She looked at the table where Kit's old clothes were lying. "Well, with some exceptions, I fear that a lot of your clothing is beyond salvation."

Kit nodded. "Okay."

"But we are going to buy you things and we don't want you to feel guilty about it because your mother couldn't. I'm sure she would have loved to give you the things we will give you if she'd been able to afford to."

"Okay."

"Which leads to some bad news…Sunnydale Elementary doesn't want you back until you've shown you can behave properly among your peer group."

"You mean not beat up my school mates? Yeah, I was afraid of that…" Kit looked down at her hands that were clenched around the hardback.

"So we'll send you to St. Ursula's for the rest of the school year and after that you can go back to Elementary, if you want to."

"But-But that's real expensive!"

"Ah…well then we get to some facts. I'm not poor. Not rich, but well, not poor. Simon, my errr…"

"Boyfriend?" Kit grinned.

"I suppose the term will have to do, well Simon is rich. Very, very rich. He can easily afford to send you to St. Ursula's. The big problem is that you can't really let people know how rich Simon is, because, well then you might get kidnapped."

Kit looked thoughtful. "Yeah, that would be pretty awful." She tried to put the book on the side table but her injuries got in the way and Joyce took it and put it there. She smiled at the little girl.

"A fan of Darlin' Starlin' I see."

"Don't call her that! She hates to be called that!" Kit scowled.

Joyce laughed. "I know, so you are a fan?'

"I want to be a profiler just like her. Help people and save them." Kit said firmly.

"Do you now? Well, it's different from Dawn; she wanted to become a Ballet dancer."

Kit giggled. "Oh yeah, I saw what she did to the Ballet Brawlers, none of them dared look her in the eye until she set up the Rangers."

"Y-you seem quite, well…"

"Laid back?" Kit shrugged. "Ms. Summers, I never expected it to last, I thought I'd be back with the Rosses within a week of Mom… of Mom…"

Joyce hugged the self composed girl as a few tears ran down her face. "Sorry…"

"Don't apologize dear. Don't ever apologize for mourning."

"Okay…well, it was weird, but before Dawn came, nobody stood up to me, I felt sorta, well dead. Alone."

"You were alone dear. You aren't anymore."

"I-is Dawn gonna be punished?"

"Yes. She is." Joyce's face was firm.

"Oh. Does she have to be?"

"What?"

"Well if she hadn't done what she did you would not have known about me right? If she'd just told you she was being bullied, you'd just have called the school and then the school would have tried to call Mom and then Social Services and then I'd have been sent back to the Rosses and that would have been _awful_and I would have run way and probably been killed or worse…"

Joyce put a finger on the babbling girl's lips. "Yes, you'll fit right in. Kit, I know Simon, and I'd like to think that as soon as I heard that your mother was missing I would have inquired after you, spoken to you, and I'm pretty sure you would have ended up in a better place than with the Rosses even if not with us."

"Oh…B-But I _like_ you?"

"Kit, Dawn tried to solve a problem she didn't have to solve and she really should have known better, but she wanted to act the way she did and for that, she will pay the penalty."

"I-Is she gonna get whacked? 'Cause that's what Mom did when I was real naughty."

"Whacked?" Joyce looked amused.

"Err, spanked."

"Ah. Yes."

Kit mumbled something.

"What was that,Kit?"

"Errr…I said I bet Buffy doesn't get spanked. Sorry."

"Oh, she does, quite recently as a matter of fact."

"B-but she's like _sixteen_!" Kit gasped, shocked.

"Your point? I'm responsible for you lot until you're eighteen, until that time I reserve the right to turn all of you over my knee. I must admit it sometimes seems the only thing to keep Buffy even somewhat in line is the threat of the slipper." Joyce pointed out calmly.

Kit blanched. "But I've been very bad!"

"Yes, you have. And you've paid enough I think. That doesn't mean you won't ever be punished, just that I think what led up to your behaviour and what happened because of it are punishment enough."

"Oh…okay…err. Mom had these rules?"

"So do we dear. I'll explain them to you. And some other things, like that you may find yourself healing faster than you should, that's because of me, and errr…I've got a pretty interesting family, who'll probably be by pretty soon to meet you among other things."

"Interesting? Like famous?"

Joyce sighed. "Well, not most of them, well not as you would see it, we're an old family of witches."

"Witches? Wicked." Kit grinned.

"Very funny. If you tell that to my mother or aunt, you won't have to wait long for an introduction to the family punishment." Joyce said with a twinkle in her eye but a serious expression.

Kit winced. "I'll remember that."

"Probably wise." Joyce said dryly.

"You said not most of them. There is someone famous in your family?"

"Well, somewhat." Joyce looked at the book askance. "You can see if you agree when you meet all of them."

"Okay." Kit yawned. "Sorry."

"You had a big operation dear…it's to be expected. We shall be able to get you home in a few days, until then, is there anything you want?"

"Ummm. Chocolate?"

"Certainly. Hershey?"

"Yeah." Kit's face lit up.

"Shall I bring some books too? And Xander has an extensive collection of comics he no doubt won't mind putting at your disposal. And I'll have someone come round to talk about what you need for St. Ursula's." She smiled as the girl yawned again, sinking into sleep rapidly.

"Okay."

"Sleep well my pretty Kit."

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Joyce leaned into Simon's chest, her tear stained face quiet. "She kept a notebook with what she took from whom."

"I saw it, I also saw she managed to pick the lock of the junction house and slept in there most nights, It had enough of a Threshold to function as a home. She had water bottles she filled at school. I shudder to think what she and Dawn will get up to together."

Joyce smiled. "Yes, that occurred to me as well. Simon, the house is growing a tad small for all of us…"

"Yes, we do seem to be expanding rather rapidly." Simon grinned.

"And I noticed the Iverson's house was not put up for sale despite them moving to LA…"

Simon looked a bit sheepish. "Actually I've offered Terri Kalish the Iverson's house, hers would be easier to integrate into ours."

Joyce gave him a look. "Oh? Just like that? No discussion?"

"Are you upset?"

Joyce huffed. "Well, a little, I mean, it's a big step buying a house…" She fell silent. "Well, maybe not so big a step for you…"

Simon shrugged. "Not really, no. Except in this case. I should have talked to you. I only made an offer to the Iversons' yesterday and talked to Mrs. Kalish this morning, but…"

"It's alright Simon, the only thing I wanted to discuss is moving into the Manor, but I don't think I'm ready for that yet…" She smirked. "You do realize that all the children have staked a claim to a room there?"

"I'm not surprised, but I would prefer not to live there for a while yet as well."

"Well that's agreed then. I assume you've got some drawings to show me of how 1630 and 1628 can be joined to become one house?"

Simon grinned. "Yes, Norman was quite amused to get the assignment."

Joyce thumped his shoulder. "You did not get Norman Foster to design…" She fell silent as she looked at his amused expression. "You really did…"

"I did tell you I would."

"Simon…" She rolled her eyes. "Just show me the drawings, Simon."

"Yes dear."

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Simon and Joyce sat at the island when first Buffy, then Xander, then Amy and finally Willow came in, flanked by Dave.

"Heya Mom, Simon."

"Arvo, Mom, Dad."

"Ms. Summers, Dr. Meier."

"Hello Mom, hello Dad."

"Ms. Summers, Dr. Meier."

The two adults greeted the teens and then focussed on Willow. Joyce spoke. "Willow, could you come with us to the dining room please?"

Willow nodded. "Sure Mom." She faltered slightly. "I-Is anything wrong?"

"Dining room, Willow."

Willow put her bag down and rather fearfully followed her foster parents.

"Mom? Sheila and Ira aren't taking my case to court are they? I-I don't have to go back?"

"No, Willow. Please sit down."

Simon's laptop was on the table plugged in to the internet and on the company mail program. An e-mail was open and another visible

"Can you tell me what those mails are about, Willow?"

Willow blinked and then read. She blinked again. "_Hey_! Some poo-poo head has hacked my account! _HEY!_ I hack people's accounts, not others mine! That's not fair! That's not how it's supposed to be!"

She suddenly flushed as she felt her parents' decidedly un-amused gazes upon her. "Err… well except I haven't hacked anything much since Moloch, and I didn't hack into peoples' accounts a lot, except for that senator, Kinsey, I really don't like him very much, he's a creep, and well, err, I do read the Coroner's reports and the police and EMT reports…and the Council record office… and I've got a I may sorta have hacked into NASA and the FBI, but that was just to have a look see and well…I really shouldn't have told you that should I?" Willow shut up.

"You _hacked_ the _FBI_? And _NASA_?" Joyce was aghast.

"I just looked! I didn't touch anything! I swear!" Willow was very pale.

"Yes, well, I think we'll have a _talk_ about that later." Joyce gave her daughter a penetrating look and Willow gulped.

"Y-yes Mom."

"But you didn't do this?"

"N-no Mom, I mean Dad's got all these contacts, and he'd like be able to get anything we need about Marcie without me hacking and well, ummm…there was the whole thing with Kit and I was distracted." She swallowed as she realized what she'd said and paled even further at her mother's expression. "Oh patootie."

"Yes, I shall be busy between you and Dawn." Joyce said severely.

Willow eeped. "Y-Yes Mom."

"But you didn't do this?"

"N-no, honest Injun!" She held up two trembling fingers in the Girl Scout salute fingers and Simon snorted. Willow blushed. "I mean, really."

Joyce's gaze was pensive. "Well, now you now what it feels like being hacked. And maybe that will restrain you a bit when next you go on a hacking spree."

"Yes Mom. Mom, can I track down who's sending this stuff? Please?"

Joyce looked pensive. "I suppose so. But no tricks! I want to know who's doing it, and you don't take any action until we've spoken. Understood?"

"Yes Mom."

"Very well. I'll see you upstairs tomorrow afternoon."

Willow swallowed. "Yes Mom." She hurriedly left the room.

Joyce sank her face into her trembling hands. "Oh good grief…"

Simon grinned. "It could be worse dear."

"How?"

"The Pentagon and the CIA."

Joyce poked him in the ribs. Quite hard.

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"Harmony." Eliza Kendall stood in the door to her eldest daughter's bedroom; her tall blonde form elegantly draped against the jamb.

Harmony looked up, still a bit woozy. "Yes Mom?"

"I got a call from the Twins' school, seems that there was a bully, and then a vigilante group. Would you know anything about that?"

Harmony blinked. "Errr…"

Eliza rolled her eyes. "They made you promise again, didn't they?"

Harmony looked down at her hands. "Yes Mom."

"Oh Harmony…is that why you were so late for school so often?"

"Mom…" Harmony's tone was plaintive and Eliza nodded. She knew enough. She closed Harmony's door behind her and then knocked on the two doors beyond it. They very slowly opened. Eliza looked at the twins with anger in her eyes.

"You let your sister take the rap for you…You made her _promise_!" He voice was breathless with anger. "You know Harmony doesn't understand things like that very well and you know how much she loves you! You, you _used_her!"

Melody and Felicity quailed under her anger.

Eliza ran a hand down her face. "I'm too angry right now to punish you. But that doesn't mean that I won't. Understand that very well, young _ladies_."

She strode off, anger radiating of her like a cloud. The Twins shared a glance and went into Felicity's room where they sat on the bed and hugged until they were called down for an angry, silent dinner.


	38. Soothing daughters

**Author's Note: **

**Chapter 40! Still not much action on the Invisible Cousin front I fear. I needed to write some things out of the way, such as Kit's first conscious encounter with her new family and a hint of things to come.**

**The current plotlines will take some time to resolve but I hope to be able to do so fairly quickly.**

**Reviews****are****most****welcome****and****the****only****way****to****communicate****your****likes****or****dislikes.**  
**  
**

_Chapter 40: Soothing daughters and bedside conversations _

Joyce sat down by the phone in her room and sighed. She picked up the horn and dialed her parents' number.

"Ellis house, Clarice Starling."

"'Ris, hello, it's Joyce."

"Joyce? And why are you calling in the middle of the week? Adopt another waif?"

Joyce felt her cheeks redden even with her oldest sister on the other end of the line.

"Joyce…that was a joke."

"Errr…it's also the truth."

"Oh. Should I get Mom and Dad?"

Joyce noted the fact that Clarice now called her father 'Dad'. "That might be wise. Put me on speaker phone."

Clarice called out. "Mom! Dad! It's Joyce!"

Joyce heard her parents come in and started talking. "Hello Mom and Dad…you'd better sit down. You see this all started when Dawn got bullied at school…"

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Willow had been uncharacteristically silent during dinner, throwing fearful glances at Joyce, who herself wore a severe look. Dawn too, was quiet and fearful. Simon, noting the atmosphere, took Joyce out for a drive to the manor. Buffy and Xander eyed their sisters.

"Well?" Buffy asked.

Dawn grimaced. "I got off getting spanked this afternoon 'cause of all the, you know, stuff…so it's gonna be tomorrow…"

Willow gulped. "A-And Mom found out about my hacking, and she was really not happy about the FBI and NASA."

"Wait, Wills…you hacked the FBI?" Xander looked impressed and terrified at the same time.

"Yeah…"

Buffy looked awed. "Wow…that might just match my burning down a gym…and here I thought you were the quiet one…"

"B-Buffy? Can we talk alone?" Willow asked fearfully.

"Sure, Wills, lets go on up." Buffy led her sister out of the room quickly.

"Hey! You;ve got to help with the dishes!" Dawn called out.

"Dawn…Willow needs to talk with Buffy. I'll take Willow's turn." Xander said calmly.

"Oh, okay."

Willow started crying as soon as they reached Buffy's room. "Wills…Wills…breathe." Buffy tried to comfort her sister but Willow kept sobbing her heart out.

"She gonna make me leave! She's sending me back because I'm a criminal! I'm evil, I'm bad! I'm a bad girl!"

"Willow! Willow! Wills!" Buffy was getting worried. Willow was getting hysterical. She slapped the red head twice, carefully keeping her Slayer strength under control and Willow calmed down enough to collapse on the pillows and curl up, crying. Buffy rose and went outside. "Just getting some water for you Will, I'll be right back."

She stepped outside and flipped her phone out and open as she went into the bathroom and filled a glass of water.

"Joyce Summers, good evening." Her mother's voice, slightly annoyed came over the phone.

"Mom? Please come home. Willow is certain you're gonna send her back to Sheila and Ira and she just had hysterics. Please…Mom…you aren't, are you?"

"W-what? What gave you that idea?"

"Oh come on Mom! You were totally angry with her! I've not seen you this upset since Hemery…and…and…" Buffy broke down herself.

"We'll be there as soon as we can. Get back to Willow. Don't worry. She's staying with us." Joyce sounded exasperated but determined. Buffy hung up, picked up the glass and took it to Willow, who'd sunk into less frantic sobbing.

Buffy succeeded in getting her to calm down enough to drink a few sips but no more. Silent tears now ran down Willow's face and stifled sobs shook her shoulders.

Joyce opened the door and walked in, closing it behind her. "Do you know why I'm so angry Willow?" Her voice was gentle and yet reverberated with anger and to Buffy's fine tuned slayer hearing, something else. Fear.

"Because I'm a bad girl…I'm a real bad, naughty girl." Willow bawled.

"Oh Willow…Buffy, stay here…this is important to you too." Joyce sat next to Willow and motioned to her side.

Buffy who'd been walking out of the room stopped, startled, and at her mother's gesture, sat on the bed next to Joyce.

Joyce took a deep breath. "Willow…do you know what the punishment is for hacking a Federal system? I read about a case a few weeks ago."

"Ummm…S-Spanking?" Willow said uncertainly.

Joyce chuckled. "Yes, that too…but I meant the fifteen to twenty years in prison. Oh, your father's lawyers could keep you out of jail probably…but it would be problematic. And I don't want you in jail…I want you here where I can hug you and take care of you." She hugged Willow tightly. The girl looked at her with a stupefied expression on her face.

She turned to Buffy. "Which was the main reason I was so very angry about the gym…Because I was so very afraid that you'd be taken away from me."

Buffy nodded. "I know Mom…I understand."

Willow pulled on Joyce's sleeve and then whispered in her ear. Joyce looked at the girl with surprise.

"What?"

"Please? Y-you said no recriminations…I don't want to go to bed while you're this angry with me." Willow managed to squeak out.

Joyce sighed. "Willow…do you know why I never levy that particular punishment on the day I say I will?"

Buffy muttered something and Joyce grinned and gave her a one armed hug. "And no, it's not to make you stew in your fearful juices…It's because I may change my mind, and because well…Willow, I just spent fifteen minutes ranting at your father…and I'm frightened and angry. What do you think I'd do to your tushie, hmmm?" Joyce ended with a smile.

Willow flushed. "Oohhh…ouch."

Buffy winced. "Yeah, ouch."

Joyce hugged both of them close. "I just don't want to lose any of you. And I don't want to have to think about what happened to you in the women's wing when Big Dora decided that she really liked the new girl."

Willow eeped and flushed. Buffy chuckled. They sat for few minutes in silence, the two girls leaning into their mother.

"M-Mom?" Willow asked hesitantly.

"Yes dear?"

"W-will you still tuck me in tonight?" Willow's voice was small and fearful.

"Oh Willow…of course I will. I love you." She gave the girl a kiss on the temple and then leaned over to do the same to Buffy. "I may be a touch annoyed with you right now, but I do love you."

"I'm sorry…" Willow looked down at her hands, resting in her lap.

"Willow…you're a very intelligent girl…young woman. You knew what you were doing was, well, stupid as well as wrong. I understand that sometimes we need to know things and the only way we can find out is going to be by hacking. But you will only do so from now on with my, or your father's go ahead. Understood?"

Willow nodded. "Yes Mom."

"I do not want to have to come visit you in Leavenworth. They don't allow much hugging for one."

Willow smiled a watery little smile. "I'm sorry Mom."

"You'd better be." Joyce sighed and hugged both of them and then got up.

"Simon and I are going to Kit. Do you want to come along? She hasn't seen any of you yet while she was awake, except Dawn."

Willow perked up. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Buffy nodded and Joyce led the two of them downstairs. "Anyone else here want to visit Kit?"

Xander and Dawn nodded, as did Arlene. Joyce smiled. "Let's go then. Willow, there's a bag by the door, would you mind getting that?"

"Sure Mom."

Xander looked at Willow and then smiled at her. Willow's answering one was tremulous but sincere.

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Kit looked up when the family came in, Willow in front carrying a large shopping bag.

"Hello Kit." Joyce smiled at the girl in the bed. "This is Willow, Buffy, Xander, Simon, and, my sister your Aunt Arlene."

Kit waved a pale hand and swallowed visibly. Joyce took the bag from Willow and Simon put an overnight bag he was carrying on the table.

"We've brought some things for you…Clean underwear, night things, toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, shampoo, conditioner; we'll have to wash your hair in bed because you're not allowed under the shower yet. We'll buy more stuff once you're out of the hospital and can go shopping with me…" 

Buffy cleared her throat. Joyce smiled. "Us, but I got you some jeans and sweaters and shirts and sock and stuff, and a pair of sneakers, we'll get you some real shoes later."

Kit nodded, wide eyed, as she looked at the growing pile of things in front of her, gripping her teddy bear tightly.

"Nice bear." Xander said quietly, putting a bag of comics by her side. "Just ignore Mom; she's going into motherly overdrive. It's like a shark scenting blood in the water only with kids that need mothering. That might not have been the most reassuring of comparisons now I think about it. " He grinned at Kit, who grinned back.

"Xander."

"Kit."

"So what's he called?"

"Rupert."

Willow laughed and Buffy sniggered as did Xander. Buffy reached over to gently touch Rupert's nose. "Can't wait till we tell Giles that one…Rupert bear. I'm Buffy. I'm your oldest sister."

"What's so funny about Rupert's name?" Kit asked belligerently. "Ms. Summers laughed about it too."

"Ah…well you see, we have this friend, an English guy called Giles, he's the High school librarian, and he's well…his first name is Rupert. And he's gonna be very embarrassed…So what we need to do is get you and Rupert bear in the same room as Rupert Giles…" Buffy's eyes grew distant as she contemplated the possibilities.

Kit grinned. "Maximize his embarrassment." Joyce and Simon looked up at the girl's choice of words.

Xander grinned broadly. "Oh yeah, the Force is strong with this one."

Joyce smiled indulgently. "Poor Mr. Giles won't know what hit him."

"Maybe we can do it at the Talent show…" Xander looked thoughtful.

"Talent Show?" Kit asked, looking worried.

Buffy sighed. "Yeah, well, we piss…" She changed her choice of words at Joyce's cough. "Annoyed the Principal and he and Mom thought performing at the talent show might be good for our social integration."

Kit looked horrified at Joyce who smiled at her. "Buffy neglects to mention it's punishment from me as well. Just be a smart Kit and don't skip afternoon classes without due reason or letting us know." Joyce lifted an eyebrow.

Kit nodded. "Okay."

Arlene had wandered over to the bedside table and picked up the book on it and snorted. Buffy looked over and seeing the title and author, looked at Kit and grinned. She was bout to speak when Joyce shook her head, smiling. Buffy and Arlene nodded in understanding. Apparently Aunt Clarice was to be a surprise.

"Now Dr. Smith says we can and need to take you home Friday morning, Buffy has said she'll give up her room for now, until you're better and then we'll have a reshuffle with the extra rooms becoming available after we've joined up 1628."

Buffy blinked. "What? Joined up?"

Joyce pointed a thumb at Simon as she unfolded a nightshirt with a Pikachu on it. Kit eyed it warily. "His nibs over there bought it to integrate it into the house as he thinks we need more rooms that aren't in the basement."

Simon looked slightly offended. "His Nibs?"

"It's the accent dear, don't try and deny it." Joyce said sweetly. "Now Kit I don't know what sort of thing you like but I bought some different things that are supposedly trendy now. We'll go shopping for something you like later. I'm afraid you won't be allowed to go out for Halloween, the doctor says it would put too much strain on your wounds even in a wheelchair."

Kit looked at Joyce with disbelief and then at Dawn. "Is she for real?"

"Oh yeah, just a bit rattled right now. Buffy told her some things she did in Vegas that made her afraid, and then she found out Willow might be sent to jail for hacking and then there's you and me…So basically Mom is trying to…ooops." Dawn shut up and cringed.

Joyce turned to her youngest. "Dawn…how exactly how do you know these things?" her voice was dangerously soft.

"Errr…Can I just say sorry now and…" Dawn swallowed at her mother's expression. "Oh shi…pootles."

"I'm very disappointed in you Dawn."

"Sorry Mom."

"We'll talk about this later." She held up three nightshirts and looked at Kit. "Now which of these would you prefer?"

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Joyce had tucked in Willow and Buffy and said goodnight to Xander and was sitting in the living room with her feet up, her head in Simon's lap and her eyes closed. "Did I mess up somewhere?"

"No dear. You just have energetic children who seek outlets for that energy and their intelligence."

"By hacking into federal databases and spying on everything in and out of sight?"

Arlene laughed. "I still can't believe that…Willow hacking the FBI? Can you imagine Clarice's face?"

"Can you imagine Clarice having to tell her superiors?" Joyce said worriedly. "Ohhh…why does everything have to be so complicated!"

"And we still don't know who's posing as Willow…but the information we've received is…worrying." Simon said.

Arlene looked at him. "How so?"

"According to the school transcripts Evy, or Marcie, stopped going to school about three weeks into the year…no record of her exist beyond that. The Rosses reported her missing six days ago."

"That…there's too much of a difference there." Arlene bit her lower lip.

"Yes. I suggest you and I go visit the Rosses tomorrow. Think you can get away from school?"

Arlene grinned wickedly. 'I'll just tell Rupert he has to watch them practice himself…"

"A fate worse than death." Simon smirked.

"I've seen some of those acts, it may very well be." Arlene looked at Joyce. "Go to bed Joy. Tomorrow will be better."

"Can it be worse? I'm just so angry and scared right now…Every time the doorbell goes I'm afraid it'll be the FBI, coming to arrest Willow."

"Does she know that?" Arlene asked sympathetically.

"I think she understands, yes."

"Still gonna spank her?"

"Hell yes."

"She'll be mortified…"

"She should have thought about that one before she hacked the FBI." Joyce said decidedly. Then she sighed and rose. "But I am going to bed. Good night, Arlene." Simon rose with her and bid his own goodnight. Arlene sat in the living room studying the hacked file as well as the information Simon had provided and did not go to bed until several hours later, when she was certain her sobs would not wake Xander.

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The next morning Arlene went into the hospital room quietly and smiled as she saw Kit reading intently. Instead of the hefty volume of her oldest sister's experiences with murderous madmen this one was thin, flimsy and bore the unmistakeable image of Batman. Xander apparently had made a convert.

"Good morning Kit."

Kit eyed her warily. "Good morning, Ms. Ellis."

"Aunt Arlene. " Arlene said firmly.

Kit's wariness did not disappear. Arlene sat on a chair by her bed. "Kit…may I ask you some questions about Marcie Ross?"

"Marcie? What did she ever do to you? She was the only good thing to happen while I was with them."

"I-I want to know more about Marcie. Please. About how they treated her. She's missing."

Kit took a shocked breath. "No! What did they do to her?"

"We don't know they did anything to her. But I need to find her."

"They treated her horribly, especially the triplets. Like she was a slave…And they wanted me to be one as well. Because we weren't _family_." Kit spat the last word.

"Oh. Do you mean…"

"Marcie was adopted as a baby. They said everybody hated her and even her mother couldn't love her." Kit stated firmly.

Arlene shrunk in on herself. "I – I see."

"Why do you care anyway?" Kit looked at the woman beside her and then her eyes widened.

"_You_ are Marcie's Mom aren't you?"

"Yes." Arlene quietly confessed."

"Then why didn't you keep her?" Kit was clearly getting angry.

"Because I was stupid. I thought I had good reasons, but none of them really were. And I thought I'd made sure she went to parents who would over her. And they apparently didn't. I was informed of her health and progress every year for four years. Everything seemed alright then…"

Kit nodded. "Things didn't start to go wrong until the triplets were three years old or so, when Marcie was my age, or that's what she told me."

"My poor baby…"

"Are you gonna find her?"

"I'm going to do everything I can to do so."

"And then what?"

"If Marcie wants to come with me…I'll at least get her away from the Rosses."

Kit nodded. "Okay…I'll tell you some stuff. But if you ever hurt Marcie with it…"

Arlene gave the girl a grateful look. "Thank you Kit."

"It's okay."

"Do you have any idea where Marcie might be? She isn't with the Rosses anymore."

Kit smiled. "When I was with the Rosses Marcie used to hide out in the loft. We had this really small room and the triplets ran in there whenever they wanted so the loft was all she had."

"Was she nice to you?"

"Oh yeah…like I said, she was the only good thing to happen while I was with the Rosses."

"Can you tell me what she likes? Food and stuff?"

"Chocolate and chocolate milk." Kit smiled as he said it. "But we didn't get much of it." And her face fell again.

"Oh…That reminds me…Arlene reached into her purse and removed a Hershey Kiss. "Joyce said you could have this. Simon says it shouldn't be too much of a problem but you won't be allowed much chocolate until the wound is closer to being healed."

Kit's face blossomed into a wide, girlish smile and she let out a small whoop of glee. Arlene watched avidly as girl ate the chocolate treat and hoped she could make her daughter this happy even for a second.

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Later that day Arlene took a deep breath as she prepared herself for her meeting with the people who'd adopted her daughter. Captain William Ross served on the Stoneport Army base to the north of the town and lived off base with his wife and four children according to his files. Simon had called the base commander to inquire about the missing child and the colonel in charge, a man called Ernfield, had been deeply worried about the lack of worry that Ross had shown about it. Upon his request Simon and Arlene would be paying the Rosses a visit.

Considering the nature of the visit, a delay in reporting the absence of a child, Arlene had decided to make the call in full dress uniform.

She left the basement and saw her, sister's boyfriend, no her superior officer stand in the foyer, looking at himself in the mirror, his uniform impeccable and his face grave. He nodded at her and gave her a professional look and she automatically straightened and saluted. "Sir."

"Major. Shall we go?"

Arlene nodded. "Yes sir. The car should be here presently." Then she looked at his salad bar for the first time and then at his face. "Holy shit, sir!"

Simon's mouth quirked. "Being suicidal in Vietnam and living through it. I wouldn't advise it as a way to garner medals."

"Understood, sir…Does Joyce know?"

"About what I did? Yes. About the scars? Yes. About these?" He laid a hand on the ribbons. "No."

"I see sir. May I suggest you make haste with that?"

"Why?"

"Errr…" Arlene flushed. "Well, not so much the medals only sir…but I take it Joy hasn't seen you in uniform yet…?"

"No…I had Evens ship this out to me, I need to meet the Governor next week, he wants to recruit me for the local National Guard and until I receive my final discharge…Well, I'll need the uniform."

"Yes sir. May I respectfully suggest we drive past wherever Joy is when we are finished sir?"

"Major?"

"Trust me, sir…" Arlene winked.

Simon sighed. "Don't tell me she has a thing for men in uniform?"

Arlene sniggered. "Well you might want to keep one on hand sir…"

"I see…very well."

There was a sound of a car being parked and then footsteps came up to the door with military precision. Simon darted into the living room muttering about his briefcase. There was a knock and Arlene opened it.

A grizzled staff sergeant saluted. "Ma'am! Staff sergeant Perkins, Ma'am!"

"Sergeant. You know where we're going?"

The sergeant nodded. "Yes Ma'am. Will I just be driving you?"

"No, the General as well. " Arlene made a slight gesture and Simon moved into view. The sergeant swallowed and saluted.

Simon returned the salute. "I left my briefcase upstairs sergeant, I'll be right back. I do apologize." He stalked up the stairs. The sergeant gaped after him.

"That…that was…"

"Old Bloodybones, yes, sergeant."

"Permission to swear, ma'am?"

Arlene lifted an eyebrow. "You're a sergeant, do you actually need permission?"

The man grinned and muttered a few choice oaths under his breath. Simon came own again and they exited the house, Simon closing and locking the door and got in the car. The sergeant drove of quickly and smoothly.

The Ross home was remarkably similar to the Summers' house. Arlene and Simon stood in front of it and the auburn haired woman eyed it with distaste. Her full dress uniform, as well as Simon's sparkled with gold braid. Sergeant Perkins stood leaning against the car, watching as Arlene rang the bell. The door was opened by a middle aged man with a receding hairline and more of a paunch than was wise in a career soldier. He stiffened and saluted upon seeing his visitors. "Sir, ma'am."

"Captain Ross, I presume?" Simon asked in a dangerously soft tone of voice.

"Yes sir."

"I think we best go in, this is not a conversation we should be having on the porch."

Ross led them inside. The house was neat but stuffy. He looked around rather helplessly and then at his guests. "Can I offer you anything to drink, sir?"

"No thank you, I suggest we get right down to the heart of the matter."

"Yes sir…May I ask what this is about sir?"

"Yes. Your daughter."

"Daughter sir?" The man was honestly confused.

"Marcie…ring a bell?"

"Oh…Marcie." There seemed some small discomfort in the man's face as if trying to remember something unpleasant he'd long ago suppressed.

Simon opened his briefcase and took out some papers. "You do not seem particularly worried despite the fact that she's been missing for several weeks."

Ross shrugged. "She's just Marcie, sir. It's not as if she's one of the boys. One of the family."

Arlene hissed and seemed ready to attack the man but Simon put a restraining hand on her arm. "I see…so if I left a set of papers transferring parental authority you and your wife would sign them?"

"Certainly sir. It would be a bit of a relief to be rid of her, sir. She's a bit of a disruptive element if you understand what I mean, sir.

"I quite understand Captain…I'll leave the papers here so you and your wife can sign at leisure. I'll send someone round to pick them up." He put the papers on the table and Ross immediately started to read them, initialling all the pages where needed. Simon rose and led a livid Arlene out of the house.

He nodded at the sergeant and when Arlene was about to talk shook his head at her. They drove in silence until they got to Revello Drive where Simon dismissed the car and driver and went inside. He went to the phone almost immediately.

"Nanny? It's Simon. We need you in Sunnydale. I'm calling in Philippa as well…some sort of mind control, rather nasty. Yes, Nanny. Yes, I was careful. Yes, I'll send someone to pick you up. We'll put you up and you can see the Talent show. Joyce is quite pleased. Yes Nanny. Love you too." He hung up.

"Mind control?"

Simon looked at Arlene. "Yes. I could feel it in the air." He looked at his watch. "I need to get to work, and you need to get to the school. Did Kit tell anything that might come in useful?"

"She said Marcie…Evy used to hide in the loft. She might still do that in school. She was in the band…played the flute. She liked all things chocolate…" Arlene's shoulders were starting to shake.

Simon pulled her into a hug. "Arlene…Go to the school and scour it. Top to bottom. After you change out of your uniform."

Arlene nodded and went to change. Simon carefully put his in the closet and regarded it wistfully. He'd visit Joyce at the gallery another day…


	39. A game of thrones

**Author's note: **

**And chapter 41. It was recently pointed out to me that it is difficult to read my stories due to the distance between paragraphs. I've noticed this myself. I convert/save my word files as webpages to post them and they all turn out that way, can anyone give tips on how to change it?**

**Thanks for the latest to recommend me: Mordare and Traveller.**

**Reviews are most welcome, as always.**

_Chapter 41: A game of thrones_

Giles looked up from his plans for the next evening and saw a petite but strong and fit hair was a deep glossy auburn and her large eyes were deep grey green. Her heavily lidded eyes reminded him of Simon yet the shape of the face and nose was more like Joyce's, down to the fine eyebrows and pale skin. Her face was delicate oval and her chin firm and with a tiny cleft.

"Ah…can I help you?"

"I'm Special Agent Clarice Starling. I'm here to help locate my niece."

Giles blinked. He'd heard about the woman, obviously, but here she was and she was well…different from what he expected.

"Agent Starling. I'm Rupert Giles." He extended his hand and she shook it firmly. 

"Buffy's Watcher. You realize that if you hurt her, I will destroy you and your whole bloody Council?"

Giles opened his mouth to reply but felt there was very little he could say. "So noted…errr. How may I help you?"

"Do you have any information on Marcie?"

"Yes…I made a small file on her, what we know. It's only a few pages of notes…"

Clarice smiled. "Can I read them?"

"Certainly." He strode into his office and grabbed the slim folder, walked back and handed it over. "There you are."

"Thank you." Agent Starling sat down, pulled a pad and pen from her purse and started reading and making notes.

Arlene was moving silently through the school, searching for hiding places, followed closely by Buffy. Both women tried to pinpoint the location, the source, of the soft flute music that could be heard throughout the school. They had so far failed to do so and were getting frustrated. They had circled through the school once so far and were now once again at the library. Arlene threw open the double doors with considerable irritation.

Clarice and Giles looked up from their theatre notes and the file on Marcie respectively and both smiled. Arlene walked up to the table and Clarice rose and hugged her. "Hey little sister."

"Clarice? What are you doing here?"

"Helping. And Mom wants to see Kit and see if she can help find Marcie as well. And Simon called her about some sort of mind affecting spell or something. Where have you searched so far?"

"Everywhere!" Buffy groaned.

"I see. The band room?"

"Band room? What's so special about that?" Buffy asked curiously.

"It seems to be about the only place she got any attention. She was the second flutist until the death of the old band leader, the new one though she lacked presence and relegated her to fifth."

Arlene held in a sob. "My poor baby…"

"We'll find her 'Lene, I promise."

"We'll go look at the band room." Buffy said decisively.

Arlene looked pointedly at the clock. "I don't think so young lady. Class first. 'Ris and I are more than capable of finding Marcie, or her hiding place."

"I have all these neat Slayer powers, like hearing and smell!." Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Firstly you don't know what Marcie smells like. Secondly you're looking at America's foremost profiler. I think we have a chance without you." Arlene crossed her arms and nodded towards Clarice.

"B-But…I want to help!" Buffy looked between her aunts who both smiled.

"You have helped Buffy…and if we need you, we know where you are. Science classroom One."

Buffy scowled. "Has everybody memorized my schedule?"

"Well _someone_ has to do it." Arlene said blandly. "_You_ have class. You ready 'Ris?"

"Yeah. Let's go find her."

Giles looked after the two musingly. "Remind me never to do anything to annoy those two."

"Heh. Well you might want to add Aunt Charlotte to that as well, and Mom."

Giles shuddered. "That lesson I learned some time ago."

"But the ones you really have to be afraid of are my grandmother and Aunt Penny. All of them…including Mom…" She gestured at the doors through which her aunts had disappeared. "Are definitely less dangerous. And scared of them too, I think. Nana Moritz might fit that category too…Simon is definitely somewhat scared of Nana…"

Giles gulped and took off his glasses. "Dear lord…"

"Yeah. Well, I gotta book. I've got some class in Science room one apparently." She picked up her bag and left, leaving Giles to clean his glasses and studying the plans for that afternoon's general rehearsal.

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The two sisters moved through the school silently, their flat, sensible shoes making almost no noise on the linoleum covered floors and their faces set in professionally neutral expressions. Numbers of young men looked after them for a while after their passage, lustful and yearning looks on their faces. The boys were ignored by the two women and they swiftly reached the band practice room.

Arlene quartered the room while Clarice studied the furniture. She studied the ceiling tiles, and then she jumped up on a stool and then a cupboard and lifted one of the tiles, rising through the ceiling. "Bingo."

Arlene was by her side like a shot. "What did you find?"

"Where's she's been staying." Clarice lifted herself into the space above the ceiling and pulled Arlene up after her.

"She's been here a while." Clarice studied the space and the nest of fire blankets. A small pile of books lay beside it and a battered school concert flute was on top of them.

Arlene swallowed heavily as she looked at the sparse things that were all that her daughter owned.

Clarice carefully moved to the nest and opened the top book, the previous year's Yearbook. She leafed through it and then moved back to the open ceiling tile. Arlene followed. Once back in the band room Clarice quickly but thoroughly checked the pages. A piece of partially burned paper fell from the back and she studied it quickly.

"Arlene…" Clarice handed the paper to Arlene who stiffened as she read it. The letters birth certi… and Evelyn Phil were visible. A childish hand had written upon one of the few remaining white spots, the words. "Nobody loves you, not even your mother."

"Little bastards!" Arlene hissed.

"General rehearsal is this afternoon, right?"

"Yeah?"

"We got to find her before then." She showed Arlene the book, where a standing portrait of Cordelia Chase had been torn with nails and sharp objects. On the opposite page a collage of her face had been similarly destroyed. Arlene shuddered.

"Yes…Yes we do."

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Rupert Giles stood at the table in the library and groaned. Jenny Calendar, standing beside him, did the same. "Think we can get out of rehearsing in front of the pupils?"

"We are the producer and director Jenny…we do have _some_ latitude."

"We're going to be the laughing stock of the school, you know that don't you, English?"

"I'm completely aware of that unfortunate fact."

"Stupid Joyce Summers!" Jenny groused.

"Indeed? And what has my daughter done to deserve that epithet?" A deceptively mild voice spoke from near the door. The two turned round and saw a petite blonde woman in her late fifties, her hair greying and her hazel eyes flinty.

"Ahhh…Mrs. Ellis I presume?" Giles saw the family resemblance between this woman and her daughters.

"Yes…you would be Mr. Giles?"

"I am…err…might I inquire why you are here?"

"My grandchildren, including one I've never met, are running around this place hunting each other and you ask that question?"

"Ah…yes of course."

"And I came to threaten you of course." She said coldly. "You see…I know what happened to the last…" She looked at Jenny. "You have power, dear…how much do you know?"

"Know? Know about what?"

Cecilia let out a sigh. "I'll talk with Buffy first…we will be continuing this conversation later Mr. Giles…" She gave the two a piercing look and was about to speak when the doors flew open and her two eldest daughters ran in.

Rupert Giles had never seen two adult, powerful and yes, quite frightening women pull to such a sudden, embarrassed halt, as those currently facing their mother. Cecilia had barely moved yet her disapproval seemed to radiate off of her in waves.

"Running in the halls?"

"Sorry Mom!" The women chorused.

Jenny giggled but shut up and paled when Cecilia turned her eyes upon her.

"I assume from your enthusiasm you've discovered something?"

"Where's she's been staying. And this." Clarice put the Yearbook on the table and opened it at the page where the pictures of Cordelia had been defaced.

Cecilia's eyebrows rose. "That does not look good. Anyone you two are familiar with?" She directed her gaze at Jenny and Giles.

"T-That would be Cordelia Chase…a so called cool girl."

Cecilia pursed her lips. "One of the girls who heaped abuse on my granddaughter?"

"Apparently. She is not…the nicest person around." Giles answered.

"She's an egotistical, shallow, annoying bitch." Jenny added.

"And she sings like a crow. " Arlene said, while wincing.

"I see. Well, no matter how annoying the girl is we can't let Evelyn kill her, it would destroy her eventually. I dare say her attacks upon the other girls haven't helped her sanity much." Cecilia sadly concluded.

Jenny looked at her in confusion. "Sorry? I mean, I can imagine that the loneliness would drive her to insanity, and the attacks, well I'll admit they aren't the sanest thing, but…"

Cecilia held up a hand. "This town seems to encourage babbling. Evelyn is going mad because she's using her powers, not just for her own gain, but to harm others. The special abilities granted to our line come at a cost. And though we can choose not to use them…if we use them for what I'll loosely describe as 'evil'…We start down path that ends in insanity, where our ability to use our powers disappears."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on! Even I know that only the Great Spirit lines have that sort of…" She fell silent as the three women crossed their arms and looked at her, amusement on their faces.

"Oh…shit."

Giles took of his glasses and cleaned them with a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. "I-I always wondered if that was true...The Council only has very limited information on the Great Spirit Lines."

"Considering how often you've wanted to burn us, can you really blame us?" Cecilia said severely. "Now we need to save two girls, my granddaughter and this vain thing that she wants to kill."

Jenny sat down at the computer and called up the pupils' class schedule. "Cordelia is in the same class as Buffy and Willow, in Science Room 1."

Arlene and Clarice smirked and Giles grinned. "How convenient."

"Isn't it just?" Clarice said.

Jenny blinked. "Am I missing something?"

Giles shrugged. "Just a little materteral action regarding Buffy."

Jenny gave him a look. "Mater what? Is that an actual word?"

"Materteral. Pertaining to aunts, the female version of avuncular if you will. It's obvious you didn't study languages." Giles smirked.

"English…" Jenny's voice was threatening.

"Yes, Miss Calendar?" Giles' voice was suave but teasing.

"I can make your life hell…"

"Miss Calendar, tomorrow we must perform…_that_ song in front of most of the school…Hell has already risen to devour me." He told her dryly.

Cecilia smiled. "Oh yes, your act. I'm looking forward to that._Especially_ the costumes. Arlene, Clarice, shall we go find Evelyn?" She led her grinning daughters out of the room, trailed by a blushing and mortified Giles and Jenny.

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Buffy grinned as Dave and Willow sat in class, their hands hanging between them, fingers intertwined. It was a good thing that Dave was ambidextrous since it allowed him to take notes even while holding hands. The modesty panel happily shielded the two from the attention of the teacher.

Cordelia was sitting by Harmony, who was at school for the first day since getting concussed and who was looking confused by the notion of artificial insemination, which the teacher was trying to explain using the example of cows. A lot of the boys were sniggering, but that was to be expected.

The bell rang and the teacher called out the homework. "Chapters 12 and 13; don't forget to answer the questions at the end of the chapters in full!"

Buffy trailed after Dave and Willow, Xander by her side. Cordelia and Harmony hurried out of class and headed towards the theatre dressing rooms.

"Well Cordelia is in a hurry to humiliate herself." Xander grinned. "Hasn't anyone told her yet that she's never going to win the Talent Show with that voice? The crows fall dead as they pass."

"Yeah, wells she thinks she'll coast in on her so called popularity." Buffy sneered. "She's in for a surprise."

"A bigger one than you think." A dry voice came from behind her and Buffy turned. "Aunt Clarice! Grandma! You're here!"

"Well of course. We want to see your big Moment up on stage." Clarice winked.

Buffy sighed. "Well at least Aunt Charlotte won't be here."

"Ah, but Simon's bodyguards have promised to film the proceedings from multiple angles…"

Xander groaned. "You know, I think we're going to be embarrassed at dozens of family gatherings for the rest of our lives…"

"That's what family's for dear…embarrassing you. Now, Evelyn has more than a slight grudge towards Miss Chase and it behoves us to prevent her from killing or maiming her." Cecilia continued.

"Awww…Do we have to?" Xander whined, rolling his eyes comically.

"Alexander! We do not make jokes about the safety of innocents." Cecilia was suppressive and Xander winced.

"Sorry Mrs. Ellis."

"It's still Gran, Xander…but kindly remember, please, that there's good in almost all people, even if you sometimes have to dig very deep. Now let's get after them before Evelyn destroys herself."

"Yes, of course."

They set of to the theatre but were interrupted by a dry cough from a classroom. "Ehem." Principal Snyder looked at the group with disdain. "And what is going on here? And who are you people?"

Cecilia turned her icy gaze upon him. "I am Cecilia Ellis…former School Counsellor at Imperial High School and Inspector of Schools for the State of California. I will be reporting certain safety issues and issues of the qualifications of numbers of your teachers to my former superiors, purely as a concerned citizen of course."

Snyder blinked. "What?"

"If you aren't aware of these safety issues, you're even less capable of performing your job than I thought when I first entered this campus."

"Errr…there are channels for this sort of thing…" Snyder tried uncertainly.

"Yes. Concerned citizens may deposit complaints and questions with the Inspectorate of Schools. It's much easier now than it was when I was actually still working there."

"And why are you here? What right do you have to being on this campus?" Snyder tried to regain control of the conversation.

"It is very clearly stated that close relatives of pupils may visit school campuses unless clear intent of harm or destructive behaviour can be shown or an official ruling to counter it is made by the School board. I happen to be aware that no such ruling exists for Sunnydale High School. The degree of my relationship to Buffy and Alexander as well as Willow is sufficiently close that no interference from overly officious busybodies will stand in a court of law. Any further useless questions?"

Snyder by now was looking decidedly aggravated and decided to turn his attention to a different target. "And you?" He asked venomously of Clarice.

"In the first place I'm Buffy's aunt…in the second…" She took out her badge. "Just to show my Bona fides."

Snyder winced. "Ah. Err…I see…" He stepped into the hallway and quickly walked away.

Cecilia led her own group away, Xander and Buffy grinning broadly and Giles and Jenny suppressing matching smirks. They arrived at the theatre soon after. Buffy and Xander immediately headed to the dressing rooms while Clarice and Arlene took up station on stage, with Giles and Jenny sitting in the theatre itself.

"Heya Wills." Buffy entered the dressing room and looked around. Willow was changing into the dress and wig of her witch costume, but was foregoing the make up. There was no sign of Cordelia.

"Hey Buffy."

"Did you see Cordelia?"

"I think she and Harmony went to the rest room, she said she wasn't going to change into her dress so as to keep it a surprise."

"Damn." The Slayer ran out and back into the school proper, back to the rest room the Cordettes favoured.

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Cordelia and Harmony entered the restroom together, taking up position in front of the mirror.

"I gotta go. Be right back." Harmony stepped into one of the cubicles and closed the door. Cordelia stood in front of the mirror, studying her reflection when she felt a cloth pushed against her face and nose by a strong if small hand. She struggled for a Moment and then collapsed as the chloroform took hold. She was quickly dragged away through the empty hallway and down to the cellars.

Buffy flew into the restroom just as Harmony came out of the cubicle.

"Harmony? Where's Cordelia?"

Harmony blinked in confusion. "She should be here." The taller girl looked around as if by the very act her friend would reappear.

Buffy swore softly under her breath and then studied the restroom with all her senses, sniffing and feeling. There was a scent here…she knew it. The same scent had hung in the entrance of the Rosenberg home the night Willow had been kidnapped by Fritz. Chloroform. Buffy turned and ran out of the restroom, sniffing the air as she went. She arrived at the basement door within minutes and ran down the stairs. She followed the scent into a back room and looked around. The room was filled with the detritus of school life, old desks, chairs, sun curtains, parasols and banners used for PTA meetings of days gone buy. Garden lights and other larger pieces were set in one corner. Cordelia was tied, unconscious, to a chair in the middle of the room, a throne like one that Buffy herself had used when she was May Queen. Another was set beside it, for the May king.

Buffy stealthily moved into the room, towards Cordelia, looking for ways to cut the thick ropes. A bag was thrown over her head and she kicked back and heard an 'oof' of expelled breath and pain. Whoever she hit with her kick drew on the string at the bag's opening and tightened it around Buffy's neck. The scent was much stronger inside the plastic lined canvas bag and she felt herself starting to lose consciousness. She pulled at the bag and held her breath. She did not see the heavy wrench coming as it hit her and she collapsed.

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Arlene looked into the girl's dressing room and saw none but Willow and Amy. "Hey you two. Where's Buffy and Cordelia?"

"Ummm…Cordelia and Harmony went to the toilet…Buffy went there too…is something wrong?"

"Shit! Yeah, we think Marcie is after Cordelia. Clarice! Mom!"

Arlene ran towards the exit of the theatre when she suddenly staggered and almost fell.

#A large damp room, filled with school desks, lit by fluorescent tubes, no windows, obviously dank and dark, two girls, tied to two separate chairs, a table with rusted biological and surgical items between them, an invisible hand propelling one of them to the dark haired girl.#

"Basement." She gasped. "They're in the basement."

"We'll take you there." Giles immediately said.

Cecilia and Clarice nodded and Rupert and Jenny quickly led the way.

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Buffy regained consciousness to the sound of humming. "Oooh. You're awake. That's a lot faster than Cordelia. But then you're a real special girl aren't you Buffy? Everybody notices _you_." The voice was shrill and tense, with a ripple of madness running through it.

"Marcie…you have to let us go. You can't hold us here."

"Who says I want to? I'm just gonna make sure that you're both noticed for what you are, for the darkness and ugliness within as well as the one I'm gonna make outside." She drew a tattered cloth aside and revealed a desk with a tray heaped with rusted dissection tools taken from the science labs.

"And I'll learn something doing it too!" The invisible girl started humming again and threw a bucket of dirty water over Cordelia, who woke up, spluttering.

"Hello Cordelia…I don't think you remember me…but don't worry…from now on you'll never forget me…every time someone gasps at your face…you'll remember me…"

"Marcie…you can't do this…you have to stop…" Buffy pleaded as a rusty scalpel turned invisible in Marcie's hand.

"I'm not Marcie…I'm nobody. No one knows who I am, no one cares what I do…so I'll make you all notice me and remember me. I will. I WILL!" Marcie started to laugh, shrill and incoherent.

"Where shall I cut first Cordy? Your nose? You eye?" Marcie trailed the invisible knife down Cordelia's shirt and the sharp blade cut the cloth. "Or lower down?"

Cordelia whimpered. "Please…what did I ever do to you?"

"What did you do to me? You want me to tell you what did to me? You ignored me. You made others ignore me. Miss 'I'm so popular!, I'm so rich.' You got your friends and they all fawn over you, but you think they'll still do so when you don't have a face left?" Marcie shrieked and a thin line of blood appeared on Cordelia's upper arm.

"If every last bit of you is scar?" Marcie leaned forward, breathing into Cordelia's face. Cordelia flinched back as far as she could and looked at Buffy.

"Help! Buffy, help! Please!"

"Oh, little Miss Buffy will be next, don't worry…you'll both be equally ugly…"

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The door to the basement room was closed and Clarice eyed it. "Metal sheathed wood. Simple lock." She tried the handle and it was obvious the door was locked. Cecilia reached into her purse and came out with a plastic bag. Clarice looked at her questioningly and Cecilia just nodded at the door.

Clarice nodded. "Stand back." She drew herself up and kicked as near to the lock as she could manage, twice, as hard as she could. The lock gave way on the second kick. Arlene was the first into the room, closely followed by Giles, then by Clarice and then Cecilia.

Buffy was straining against her bonds with all of her considerable strength and felt the old ropes give just as the door opened with a crash and the rescue party stormed in.

A shrill voice sounded from between the two chairs. "No! I'm not done yet!"

Arlene stepped forward. "Stop this! Stop this now!"

"Never! I'll get them. I'll get them all! The three brats and the bastards who called themselves my parents and the slut of a bitch who gave birth to me and abandoned me! I am no one! I am alone!"

Buffy had grasped the ropes and with a sudden heave ripped them loose, taking the left hand armrest with her and used the piece of wood to conk Marcie on the head. There was an 'oof' and a thud.

Cecilia rushed to Buffy's side and thrust her hand into the bag and drew out a handful of flour which she threw at the sound. The settling flour landed and in the split second it took for the girl's power to turn the powder invisible, Buffy struck the girl who was struggling to her feet firmly on the jaw. Marcie collapsed in a heap but did not become visible. Arlene knelt by where her daughter should be and carefully felt her jaw and neck.

Clarice hurried to Cordelia and untied her. Jenny joined her and placed a tissue on the bleeding wound.

"Wha- what was that?"

"Just a hallucination dear…you can hardly have been attacked by an invisible girl who hates your guts for being a total bitch now can you?" Cecilia said sweetly.

"Huh?'

"Exactly. Come on, let's get out of here. Buffy? Could you?" She gestured at the empty space between the thrones and Buffy nodded and lifted up the girl carefully. She noted that Arlene stayed very close and kept a hand on the girl all the time.

"I'll take Cordelia to the Nurse's office. Why don't you go and oversee the rehearsal Rupert?" Jenny artfully suggested.

Giles glared. "Have you no mercy woman?"

"You'll live. Get going. Buffy, don't forget to come back. You still have class after we time your act."

"Okay." Buffy nodded and carried Marcie to the car park, loading her into Arlene's car. Clarice took the wheel after handing Arlene a set of handcuffs. Cecilia and Arlene sat on the back seat, with an unconscious Marcie held between them.


	40. Her name is nobody

**Author's note:**

**Due to an unexpected emergency at the office I have work a lot of overtime the coming weeks, this means a probable reduction to one update a week. I hope to be able to increase this again once the workload winds down.**

**My thanks for the reviews and recommendations.**

_Chapter 42: Brotherly affection and Her Name is Nobody_

"Dr. Meier's office, Geraldine Yancey."

"Good afternoon, this is Henrietta Fulton, calling for President Lassiter."

Geraldine smiled. "I'm putting you through now. Just a second."

She pressed a button on her phone. "Simon, the President's secretary on the line."

"I've got it, thank you Gerry."

Simon cleared his throat. "Good afternoon, Mrs Fulton."

"Good afternoon Dr. Meier. The President can speak with you now."

"Thank you Mrs. Fulton."

There was a short pause and then an elderly male voice, still strong, spoke. "Simon, I'd say good to hear your voice, but so far the only times you've called here it meant ritual sacrifices and rampaging demons…"

"The new Grand Magister would deal with that sir. And as far as I know there are no major problems right now."

"I see…yet I doubt that you're calling to pass the time."

"I-I…I need a favour."

There was a Moment's silence. "What sort of favour?"

"An FBI agent discovered the supernatural."

"Ah…Simon…I won't destroy someone's career…I'll have someone talk to the man."

"Errr…actually…I was wondering, if the Grand Magister agreed, if you would consider appointing her to the Directorship of Special Operations West Coast."

"Holy…Simon, I can't just appoint some greenhorn to a directorship, even one that is thought of as a dead end."

"She isn't a greenhorn. Her name is Clarice Starling, the Bureau is trying to make her quit, and so help me something Mr. President; they had better not succeed." Simon's voice rose in anger.

"Starling? She should have enough seniority to be told the truth? Why didn't they?"

"I don't know…hence my call. Sir."

"Simon, you could have sent a letter and it would have been dealt with. Why the hell, pardon my French, are you calling in a favour for this?"

"I want her to feel safe and realize someone has her back. That I'll be there for her."

"I thought you were involved with a woman called Joyce Summers?"

"Are you keeping tabs on me, sir?" Simon asked coldly.

"Simon, you're being overly emotional. Your date was front page news for almost every New York newspaper. And yes, I'm curious enough, and you are important enough, for me to remember your alleged lady friend's name."

"I apologize, sir…it has been an emotional few days."

"Accepted. Now what's your reason?"

"Sir…I'd appreciate if you never told anyone this…"

"Simon…"

"Clarice is my half-sister. My father raped her mother when she was fourteen." Simon said in a very calm voice.

There was a spluttering noise as the President apparently spat out a quantity of fluid.

"I see. You want to protect your father's memory?"

"I burned him in effigy and couldn't care less about his memory. Clarice and her mother are the only ones who can make the decision to go public with this."

"Ah…Yes. You're right. Give me a minute. Mrs. FULTON!"

"Yes Mr. President? You do realize we have an intercom?"

"I need a number and a password, straight to my desk."

"Yes sir." There was a Momentary silence and then the President chuckled. "I'm making up the next password, Henrietta."

"Ah but sir, everybody can guess Swordfish…"

"I hear you get no respect from your secretaries either, sir?" Simon said with a smile in his voice.

"Not a whit. It's just the normal switchboard number, but the password is hickory-dickory-dock."

"Thank you, sir."

"Simon…I've got a favour to ask to."

"Yes, Mr. President?"

"Stay in the reserves. I'll talk to the Chiefs, cut you some slack. You and I both know that you'd just get drafted if you did not volunteer anyway…stay in the reserves and spare us the trouble."

"Mr. President…oddly enough for the first time since I joined I actually have something to fight for…and I need to talk this over with Joyce."

"Very well. I understand. Will I ever get to meet his paragon who brought to his knees the most eligible bachelor of the East Coast?"

"Probably sir…thank you."

"Take care, Simon. And congratulations on your fine sister."

Simon chuckled as the President rang off.

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The girl with no name came to in a bright room that smelled like a hospital. Her wrists were cuffed to the rails on the sides of the bed she was on and she tensed. A woman with auburn hair sat by her bed, tears running down her face as she looked at the contents of a photo album.

"I know you're awake." The woman said. The girl with no name studied her carefully.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Arlene Ellis."

"And? What do you want?"

"I want for you to be as happy as you can be…to be safe and feel loved and wanted."

"What?"

The woman took out a piece of burned paper and showed it to the girl with no name. "This isn't true. Your mother loves you."

"Then why did she give me to the Rosses? Why did she let me become the slave of those little bastards! Why did she never show any interest in me? Why did she abandon me!"

"When you were given up for adoption…the Rosses were different. The first four years, they were loving, doting parents. After that…"

"That's not an answer. Why did she give me up!"

"Because I was stupid." Arlene looked at the girl who had no name and the girl could see the deep grief there.

"_You_ are my mother?"

"I-I don't deserve the name…but I gave birth to you, yes."

"Why not?"

"Because I didn't take care of you, like I should have. Because I gave you to the Rosses…I should not have stopped checking up when you were four…I should have let you know who I was, been a part of your life…" Tears flowed down Arlene's face as she spoke.

"Why are you here now?"

"Because I knew you were in trouble. I-I had to try and help you."

"I wasn't in trouble. They were in trouble! All of them! I'd have taken them all on!"

"NO! No…every time we use our Power for evil, we lose a bit of ourselves…You...you would have gone mad, insane. There would have been nothing left of you."

"And? I'm nothing now! No one loves me, no one cares."

"EVELYN PHILIPPA AMANDA ELLIS! You will cease this behaviour at once."

The girl reared back into her pillows as the harsh voice spoke from the doorway. "What? Who?"

"Mother! I'm talking to my daughter!" Arlene said angrily.

"And? I'm talking to my granddaughter. Evelyn, you will become visible right now." Cecilia ordered.

"But…I can't! Nobody can see me! I'm invisible! I do not exist!"

"Nonsense. Look." Cecilia took a cup from Evelyn's bedside and dropped it, then made a slight gesture with her hand and the cup stopped mid fall.

Evelyn gasped. "B-But…"

"Magic, dear. Your mother has visions, which is how she knew you were in trouble. Now I want you to close your eyes and think of what you look like visible." Cecilia's voice had become gentle.

"No. I'm invisible. No one knows me, no one loves me."

"Evelyn…Evy…Please. I want to see what you look like…all I have are the pictures I got the first four years…and the ones I took before I gave you…gave you up." Arlene pleaded.

The girl in the bed laughed maniacally and the handcuffs were pulled taut by invisible arms straining. "Like you care! You don't care! You can't care!"

"Evy…look." Arlene took the book and laid it next to the indentation that showed her where Evelyn lay. "Here…that's you just after you were born. You weighed six and a half pounds and were fifteen and a half inches long…you had the cutest little tuft of red hair. I know what you looked like…please…let me see what you look like now."

Arlene showed page after page of pictures, but they ended when the little red head was four years old. Every note, every letter, every photo, had been carefully preserved. A single crayon picture had been inserted, showing two red headed figures. A picture of a young girl in a younger Arlene's arms was beside it.

"T-that…I broke the law then, I wanted so badly to see you…I wanted to hold you one more time. The Rosses had never seen me…It was my last chance…"

There was a flicker of light and suddenly a thin, painfully so, girl lay on the bed. The roots of her auburn hair, the same colour as Arlene's, were showing, having grown out, the rest was a dirty, streaky black. Her face was frightfully pale and lightly freckled; obviously she hadn't been in the sun for months or weeks. She wore dirty jeans and a red t-shirt and a holey black sweater. Her sneakers were worn and had mismatched laces. Her blue eyes flicked between the women in astonishment.

"I-I… Why can I see myself…"

Arlene very carefully took the book from the bed. She undid the handcuffs as Evy looked on in astonishment. Then she very carefully sat down on her daughter's bed. And then she hugged her daughter. And cried.

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Evelyn Philippa Amanda Ellis sat on her bed in the clinic while a tall, dark haired doctor with a white coat over his summer suit asked her questions and poked and prodded her. He'd listened to her heart and lungs and looked into her eyes, nose and ears. He'd tested her reflexes and now she was sticking out her tongue while he used a depressor and checked her tonsils. He said his name was Simon and that he was her Aunt Joyce's boyfriend. Evelyn Philippa Amanda Ellis eyed him carefully for any attempts at ignoring her, but he smiled at her gently.

"I'd feel better if we did a couple of blood tests. Would you mind?"

"Do we have to? I don't like doctors and needles very much."

"Well…we don't have to, but if you've picked up a disease while you had to manage on your own, I would prefer to know about it sooner rather than later."

Evelyn Philippa Amanda Ellis nodded thoughtfully. "Okay…I suppose you're right. Where's my mother?"

"Giving instructions to her mother as to what is appropriate clothing for a girl your age."

"Huh?'

"Well you can't keep wearing this, so Arlene, your mother, is buying you clothes. But your grandmother is going to do that actual buying."

"Buying…at Goodwill?"

"I wouldn't think so. I think she wants to take you shopping soon."

"Oh. That would be nice?" The girl seemed confused by the notion.

"Well, I hope so…you seem to be a bit malnourished, but that's not surprising. We'll feed you up pretty soon. First you need to clean up and then we'll get you settled."

Simon took out a clean syringe and quickly and carefully drew four vials. "Sorry about that…I need a lot for the tests I'd like them to run."

"It's okay…I'm kinda hungry?"

"Your mother will take you to Joyce's, and my, house. We don't know exactly where you want to stay, but I do know Arlene doesn't want to let you out of her sight." He smiled and she tentatively smiled back.

"Okay…"

Arlene came in and walked to the bed, sat again and hugged Evelyn Philippa Amanda Ellis as if she never wanted to let her go. "I love you Evy, my wonderful little Evy. Is she healthy, Simon?"

"Well, the blood work still needs to be done and she needs to be fed, but she's in much better shape than Kit."

"Kit?"

"Yes. Kit. Kit Holburn."

"But she went to live with her Mom! She has to be safe! Her Mom loves her!" Evy exclaimed fearfully.

"Yes…Evy…Kit's mother…died. And Kit had to live rough, even rougher than you did, and for longer. And to eat she bullied people at school to giver her money. And the other children, led by Dawn, that's our youngest, resisted. And then some of them attacked Kit. So Kit is in hospital. And she will get better, but it will take time." Simon said carefully.

"And what will happen to her now?" Evy asked tearfully. "Who will love her?"

Simon grinned. "Well, you for one. And Joyce and I are going to be her foster parents. And we'll probably adopt her later on."

Evy looked at him. "Oh…that's good. And me?"

Arlene hugged her again. "I'm never going to let you go again. Where do you want to live?"

"What?"

"I live in Chicago, but if you want to live here I'll try and find a job in Sunnydale."

"What do you do anyway?"

"I'm a professor at the University of Chicago, I teach Paleo-biology and Archaeology."

"Oh…that's nice…"

"I'm also a Major in the Army Reserves."

Evy grinned. "So you outrank that bastard Ross?"

"Language Evy, no matter how deserved, a lady expresses herself with dignity. And yes, I do."

Simon gave Arlene a look. "Do what I say, not as I do?"

"Huh?" Evy looked at him and Arlene blushed.

"Let's say your mother sometimes uses less than lady like terms." His pager went and Simon dragged it out. "Ah…I've got an appointment. I suggest you take Evy home and discuss what you want to do. Evy, Arlene, I'll see you later."

He strode out of the room and Evelyn Philippa Amanda Ellis looked at the woman who was her mother. "I'd like a shower…and to see Kit."

"Then come on, we'll get you one and then do the other."

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Evelyn Philippa Amanda Ellis stood under the hot shower of the main bathroom of 1630 Revello Drive, her Aunt Joyce's house. The water ran down her body and into the drain. It took with it the dirt that had gathered as she lost more and more of herself. It took with it what little was left of Marcie Ross. All it left was a girl called Evelyn Philippa Amanda Ellis. And she didn't know who that was. Evelyn Philippa Amanda Ellis started to cry, heaving sobs wracking her thin frame. After the third sob there was a knock and a worried voice called out.

"Evy? Are you alright? Evy?"

"I'm no one! I'm no one!"

The bathroom door opened and Arlene rushed in, tore aside the shower curtain, jumped into the shower and dragged Evy into her arms.

"You are Evelyn Philippa Amanda Ellis, Evy Ellis, your mother is Arlene Ellis, your grandmother is Cecilia Ellis, and your aunts are Clarice, Joyce and Charlotte Ellis. Your cousins are Buffy, Willow, Xander, Celia, Dawn and Kit. You are named after both your grandmothers and you are called Amanda, that means beloved. You are Evy Ellis. You have a name and you are loved."

The water ran down both of them and Evy felt it seep between them, the who-ness of her mother seeped into her and she felt she belonged. She felt her tears fall down her cheeks even under the hot shower and she saw her mother's tears and worried face. She felt her sobs stop and took a deep breath.

"I am Evelyn Philippa Amanda Ellis. I am Evy? I am Evy!"

"Yes…you're my little Evy." Arlene hugged the girl again and then stepped back. "Mom got you some clothes; they're in Buffy's bedroom."

Evy reached out and dragged Arlene back. "Don't leave!"

Arlene hugged Evy and petted her hair. "I'll be right out here…I won't leave. But do you really want me to wash you?"

Evy looked a bit abashed. "No…Sorry."

"Don't apologize love…I haven't washed you since you were a baby…But I think you might have outgrown it now."

"Okay. You won't leave?"

"Right here." She pointed at the closed toilet. "Don't worry."

"Okay."

Arlene took of her wet clothes and sopping shoes and put them in a pile. She took out a towel and dried herself off, then wrapped the towel under her arms and settled on the toilet seat to wait for Evy to finish.

She could hear the mutters from behind the curtain. "I'm Evy? I'm Evy?"

After a few minutes she rose, reached through the curtain and touched Evy's shoulder gently. "You are Evelyn Philippa Amanda Ellis. You are my Little Evy."

"Yes. I'm Evy."

"Now you need to get out of there before you prune up. C'mon."

Evy turned off the shower and stepped out, accepting the small towel her mother held out. She dried her hair with it and then took the larger towel and dried the rest of herself quickly. She followed Arlene to Buffy's room and put on the new, clean underwear and then the new, clean jeans, shirt and sweater.

"These are nice…"

"Mom does have taste…even if she believes we should all dress like nuns."

Evy touched her still damp hair. "I need to brush this…" She eyed Buffy's brushes.

"We can use mine, its downstairs, come on." She led Evy to the basement and the room she was staying in. She sat on the bed she was using and gestured Evy to sit down by her, picked up her housewife and took out her brush. "Here."

"C-can you do it?"

Arlene looked pleased. "I'd love to." She took a comb out as well and started to comb and brush the badly dyed hair. The dye had faded and Arlene wondered if it could be removed. Evy seemed to relax at the quiet ministrations.

"You sleep here?"

"Yes, it's one of the guest rooms."

Evy looked at the other bed opposite the one they were seated on. "Can I sleep here, with you?"

"Yes. Oh yes." Arlene said fervently.

"Can we put the beds together?"

"Of course."

"You'll hold me when I'm scared? Or lonely?" Evy asked in a little voice.

"Always."

"Can I have some chocolate?" Now the girl sounded hopeful.

"Your grandmother bought quite a lot, Joyce and Simon have a lot too…and Kit told me what you like." She halted her brushing for a Moment and took a bar from her purse and handed it to Evy, who took it eagerly and started to nibble.

"Can I give some of this to Kit?"

"No, Kit was injured and she has a special diet, she can't have too much chocolate yet. But it's your bar, if you want to share, you may."

"This is all mine?"

"Yes Evy, all yours."

Evy closed her eyes, savoured her chocolate and smiled as she felt her mother brush her hair as if she was the most important thing in the world.

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Evy looked up at the hospital and then at her mother. "And this Aunt Joyce is there with Kit?"

"Yes. She visits every afternoon and evening at least. Kit will be allowed home from the hospital tonight"

"Oh…Can we go see her now?"

"Of course. Come on."

They went inside and Arlene quickly led Evy to the suite where Kit was staying. She knocked and a young voice cheerfully called out.

"Come in!"

They went in and Evy gasped. Kit was bandaged and had cast on her arm and yet she looked happier than she had ever done at the Rosses. She wore a nightshirt with some sort of yellow rabbity mouse thing. "K-Kit?"

"Marcie? They found you! They found you!" Kit started bouncing but a tall blonde woman in a blue grey pants suit stopped her.

"Kit, don't bounce, remember your stitches." She said with good natured exasperation.

"Yes Ms. Summers." Kit quite cheerfully took the mild admonishment. "Can she hug me?"

"Of course. But no bouncing."

Evy went to the bed and hugged Kit gently. "Hey Kit."

"Marcie…" Kit buried her face in the older girl's shoulder. "I missed you."

"I missed you too squirt…but I'm Evy now. Evelyn Philippa Amanda Ellis."

Kit gave Evy a searching look. "Okay…Evy."

"So, how are they treating you?"

"Awesome! I'm gonna get my own room, and Ms. Summers is going to take me shopping and I'm gonna go to St. Ursula's and, well, I'll have to wear a uniform for that, but I'm still getting other clothes and I'm gonna have a brother and sisters and they're nice!"

"That's good. That's very good." Evy smiled. "I'm probably going to move to Chicago."

"Oh…that's really far away." Kit said sadly.

"Yeah, but that's where she works. But she's going to take me shopping as well and I don't know where I'm going to school yet."

Arlene looked at the scene and started mentally composing a letter to ask for a year's sabbatical. She noticed both girls grew tired and when they fell asleep together she left the room to place a call.


	41. Visible improvements

**Author's Note:**

**Letomo and Twilightwanderer have been kind enough to volunteer for Beta duty. **

**Updated to show both their work now, many thanks for their patience, time and labour.**

**Words****between***_and__in__italics_* **denote****thought,****I****will****very****slowly****implement****this****from****the****beginning****of****the****story.**

**As always, do not own Buffy, Clarice Starling or any of the other intellectual properties I did not create.**

**Reviews are, as always, very welcome. **

_Chapter 43: Visible improvements and Presidential pro activity _

Willow sat on the edge of the stage, fiddling with her wig. They'd run through the scenes, allowing Giles to measure the time they needed and be impressed with their performance.

She looked up as Dave sat down beside her. "Hey you."

She smiled, but only barely and her gaze went back to her fidgeting hands. Another form sat at her other side. She glanced up to see Xander and looked down again.

There was a skipping noise and Buffy stood in front of her, gazing up into Willow's face. "Wills? You alright?"

"Sure. Maybe. I don't know. No, not really." At the last words Willow sighed and pulled on the wig. Buffy put her hands up and over her sister's.

"Careful with the wig Wills, we need it tomorrow. Now tell me what's wrong."

"Mom."

"Something's wrong with Mom?" Buffy asked worriedly.

"No…thank God, no…I…It's…I"

Xander chuckled. "I know what this is about…Willow…when was the last time you were naughty and were going to be punished?"

Willow glared at him. "I was four. Now shut up."

"_Four_? You haven't been naughty since you were _four_?" Buffy asked in disbelief.

Xander grinned. "Oh, I wouldn't say Willow hasn't been naughty…"

"Ms. Ephraim's poodle." Dave murmured and Willow flushed while Xander shot him an approving look.

"You figured that one out?"

"That and the time Harmony's hair turned purple…Never found out how you managed that." Dave looked thoughtful.

Willow pouted. "It was food dye meant for Cordelia and it was supposed to turn her skin green…Harmony was an innocent, well stupid at least, bystander."

Xander looked at his watch. "Well interesting as this may be, we need to get home. We're eating early and picking up Kit tonight and it'll probably be late what with Marcie and all…"

Willow sighed and took the robe that changed her into a witch and stuffed it and the wig into the bag. She kissed Dave lightly on the cheek and smiled at him. "See you tomorrow."

Dave kissed her back and looked deep into her eyes. "It will be fine Willow. And I hope all of you have a good night with the family."

Buffy nodded. "Sure. I just have to find a way to break the ice with a girl who knocked me out with chloroform and who I knocked out with an armrest." She shrugged. "All in a day's work I suppose."

They left the theatre and swiftly exited the school. They took the bus and walked from the stop to Revello Drive. As they got closer Willow started walking ever slower and dragging her feet. Buffy exchanged a look with Xander who nodded and quickened his pace. "I'll just go and pour juice and stuff."

Willow looked after him and then at Buffy. "Not very smooth."

"It's not meant to be. I just thought you might want to talk to an experienced hand."

"Experienced hand? I thought Mom was the one who used her hand?" Willow looked amused.

"Okay, experienced butt then." Buffy said blithely.

Willow giggled. "Silly." Then she sighed.

"So…what's wrong?"

"I-I don't know. I really don't know…just…the notion of being punished…for being naughty or bad…it scares me Buffy…it really does. I-I haven't done anything worse than getting an A- since I was four…that my parents found out about."

Buffy took Willow's hand in her own and dragged the bigger girl into a hug. "It'll be okay Wills. One tip though, if Mom asks you if there's anything else you'd like to confess, do it…I still have the whole Slipper of Damocles hanging over my butt for Vegas." Buffy grimaced. "Mom is so definitely not amused by the whole me wearing a bunny suit in a casino thing. Not to mention the endangering of innocents and sleep-age in one room with a boy."

"How about the staking-y thing and the flooding of the hotel with Holy water through the sprinkler system? And since when are you able to make with the witty about ancient Greece?"

"Ah…I think she was amused by the priest I threw into the cistern…And hey, living with Mom and Simon and you and Giles muttering about old stuff all the time…They're driving out my California Buffyness."

Willow smiled. Then her mouth turned down. "I-I knew that living with Mom and Dad I wouldn't get away with as much as with Sheila and Ira, but I was sort of expecting to get grounded first…or maybe do some extra chores, like Dawnie when she read your diary."

"Aha. And instead this afternoon you have your first encounter with Mom's slipper. That has to be a record for a first punishment." Buffy teased.

"Buffy! No fair! You had years to work up to it. I mean, I should have gotten a warning or something, for a first offence!" Willow glared at her older sister.

"Hah! Like that would stop the Wrath of Mom in the case of the hackage of the FBI. You do something monumentally stupid, you get punished in a monumentally, and I may add, very painful, way." Buffy said with a wince.

"P-Painful?" Willow gulped.

"Oh yeah…Mom…well, she wields a mean slipper. And, well Wills…you have to admit this is a pretty big naughty thing."

"Oh…ouch." _*__Better__not__tell__Mom__about__the__Pentagon,__the__White__House__and__the__CIA__then__…__*_

"Yeah." Buffy started walking, dragging an unwilling Willow with her. "It's not gonna get better by skulking in the street. Face your fate with courage!"

"It's not my face that's gonna face its fate. That's the whole problem." Willow sulked. She sighed and allowed herself to be dragged. She had the feeling Mom would _not_ be amused if she didn't show up for her punishment.

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Joyce came home from the Gallery later than she had planned. She heard Simon whistling in the kitchen, busy with dinner. There was some mail on the table in the foyer and she picked it up absentmindedly. _*Bill,__bill,__bill,__sometimes__I__'__m__really__glad__Simon__is__so__rich__…__letter__from__Dawn__'__s__School__…__letter__from__the__School__board...letter__from__St.__Ursula__'__s*_ She reached for the paper knife that always lay on the table and opened the mail while standing.

She opened the last first and smiled to read that Kit had been accepted into the elite prep school. Then she opened the letter from the Sunnydale Elementary School and noted that they'd set up a meeting for the parents on the coming Monday, October 30th. The letter from the School Board made her gulp. _*Request__a__meeting__for__next__Tuesday__morning,__October__31__st__,__to__discuss__the__behaviour__of__your__daughter,__Dawn__Florence__Summers,__considering__the__demand__by__certain__parents__for__her__expulsion__…__*_

She sighed. It would be another thing to talk about…If worst came to worst, maybe she should ask St. Ursula's if they were willing to take in Dawn as well…Simon would be willing to help pay for that as well…But Dawn would lose a lot of the friends she'd only just made.

She looked up from her reading and blinked. Dawn and Willow were sitting on the couch, both pale and drawn looking, Willow's hands were between her knees and she was twisting them together. Her knees jittered up and down under her knee length blue skirt and her white tights made a rustling noise with the constant movement of her hands and legs. Her sensible Mary Janes were turned toes inward and she seemed unable to keep them fully flat on the ground, the heels bouncing on the floor.

Dawn's hands were clasped around her knees which were tightly pressed together under her pleated candy apple red skirt. She was using them to press down and keep her own feet on the ground. _*Like__lambs__to__slaughter__or__prisoners__awaiting__execution__…__Sometimes__I__hate__being__the__strict__parent__…__*_ She kept her face carefully neutral.

"Willow, Dawn. Good afternoon."

"Mom…" Dawn whispered. Willow just nodded and wrung her hands some more. Where Dawn gave a tremulous smile and met her eyes, Willow seemed deathly afraid and only looked at her hands.

"Are you ready?" Joyce asked. Dawn nodded yes, Willow shook no. _*__Odd__…__I__thought__Willow__wanted__to__get__this__out__of__the__way__…__*_

"Well then…Dawn. Come with me." She led her youngest upstairs and sat on the bed, beckoning Dawn to sit next to her.

"Now you're getting this punishment for several reasons. The first is that someone got seriously hurt. There's no denying that a lot of trouble could have been avoided if you had told me or Simon or another responsible adult that there was a problem. I want you to learn the lesson that a problem shared often _is_ a problem halved. If you do not say you have a problem, we can't help you. Do you understand that?"

"Yes." Dawn answered in a small voice.

"Secondly the spying. Dawn…I know you're curious. But sometimes things are secret for a reason. And if you keep trying to find out people's secrets pretty soon no one will want to be around you…even your family will try and avoid you, and yes, I've seen it happen. I don't want to see it happen to you."

Dawn shrunk in on herself. "'Kay."

"The third reason I mentioned with the first. We're your parents. We're here to help solve things like bullies, we're here to protect you. You took that right away from me, and from Simon, or even from your Dad."

Dawn nodded.

"Lastly, and this is a very bad reason, because you scared me. Once you're a parent you'll understand it's a very bad reason, but it is one that will come up plenty of times." Joyce looked a little embarrassed.

Dawn smiled a little at that one despite the situation.

"Now, do you have anything to say, add, or just something you think I should know about?"

"I'm sorry…I…I'll try no to spy, but I'm just…" She threw up her hands. "Everything I do is boring and everything others do is exciting."

"And that is why all this started? You knew Buffy and the others had this whole exciting thing going on and you didn't?"

Dawn nodded. "I suppose so. I'm sorry Mom…"

"Yes…well you should also know that we got a letter from the School board. There are parents who want to see you expelled."

Dawn looked up wide eyed. "B-but my friends…"

"Yes. Dawn…I'm sorry. We'll do our best, but if too many parents have complained…" Joyce pulled Dawn into a hug and held her tightly for a few Moments.

"Yeah…Me too."

"Well then, let's get on with this." Joyce said briskly. Dawn winced.

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Dawn sniffled as she rubbed her bottom under her skirt with one hand and her eyes with the other. Joyce looked on with mild sympathy. "Well I hope the lesson sticks."

Dawn sniffled again. "Yeah, I think it will. Like, ouch, Mom."

"First that is not grammatically correct English. And secondly 'ouch' is a rather important part of the punishment." Joyce said dryly.

"Yeah…I'm sorry Mom."

"I would certainly hope so. A little word to the wise, Pumpkin: don't ever try to wiggle your way out of a punishment again because things ended for the best. Like I said before, that earned you quite a few extra thwacks." Joyce warned.

Dawn winced. "Yeah…I'm really sorry, Mom."

"Very well." Joyce rose and kissed Dawn gently on the forehead. "Well…I'll get Willow and then we'll have a quick dinner and after that we'll go and get Kit."

Dawn perked up. "Okay."

Dawn went to her room, still rubbing her rear and Joyce went downstairs. Willow stumbled to her feet, trembling and pale. Joyce looked at her in amazement. "Willow? What on earth is the matter?" Joyce took the girl into her arms and held her.

"I-I don't know!" Willow wailed tearfully.

Joyce gently led Willow up the stairs and Willow started to breathe faster and faster. Joyce ran back down, got a paper bag from the kitchen earning a surprised look from Simon and caught up with Willow as the girl leaned, wheezing, against the doorjamb of the master bedroom.

"Willow, breathe into this." Joyce handed her the bag and then led her into the bedroom where she sat Willow down.

Willow breathed into the bag for several minutes while Joyce rubbed her back.

"Feeling better?"

"A little."

"Any idea what's wrong now?"

"I-I was just thinking that I haven't been punished in so long…I've been a good girl…and then I just got scared, I don't know why."

"I see. Willow…how long have you been hacking?"

Willow's face scrunched up slightly in thought. "Ummm…I started when I got my first computer…That was when I was eight."

"I see. What did you do then?"

Willow shrugged. "Nothing much; leave a few messages, send a few false emails, I scrambled the School administration office for detentions and stuff…"

"Then may I be the one to point out that that is not exactly the behaviour of a good girl. It's the behaviour of a naughty girl who happens to be very good at not getting _caught_." Joyce said dryly.

Willow gaped at her. "I-I never thought about it that way…"

Joyce sighed. "Willow…how old were you when you were last punished?"

"I-I think I was four or so…"

"What did you do?"

"I think…I ran into the house, disturbed Sheila while she was working and she yelled at me and I knocked down a vase. It was a cheap one, I cut myself…" Willow looked at a thin white scar on her hand.

"Do you remember how you were punished? Did you get a lecture?"

Willow closed her eyes. "I…Sheila was very angry…Ira had just left…he had gone on a lecture tour about Kabbalistic practices…"

"You remember _that_ but not how you were punished?" Joyce was amused.

"I…I…" Willow started breathing faster again.

"Breathe into the bag, Willow. Breathe into the bag."

Willow nodded and closed her eyes. Joyce rose to get a glass of water from the en suite bathroom and the hinges creaked, Joyce made a mental note to ask Simon to oil them. Behind her, Willow screamed.

"NOOOOOOO!MOMMEEEE!PLEASE LET ME OUT! I"LL BE GOOD! I"LL BE GOOD ALWAYS! MOMMMEEEEEEE! I'LL BE GOOD F'REVER!"

Joyce froze for a second and then ran back to Willow. The red head was huddled against the headboard, her eyes very wide and tears running uncontrollably down her face. She sobbed and gasped and clawed at the air and Joyce had trouble holding onto her as she panted and thrashed. The door flew open and Simon ran in wearing an apron.

"What's wrong? Is everything alright?"

Joyce tried to soothe Willow. "Not really no…Easy, love, easy…"

Buffy and Xander, followed shortly by Dawn, arrived at the door. Buffy looked at her sister with fear in her eyes. "Mom? What's wrong?"

Simon sat on the other side of the bed and together with Joyce held and tried to comfort the whimpering Willow.

"Mommy…Mommy…please Mommy…I'll be good…I'll never break anything again…Mommy…Please let me out Mommy…Mommy, it's so dark…Mommy, please let me out. I'll be good…I'll be good…"

Willow's eyes were wide and empty and her body shivered and shuddered as she tried to escape from the prison of her memory.

Buffy growled. "I'm gonna _kill_ Sheila Rosenberg!"

Xander sank down on the floor, tears running down his face. "Oh God…that's why she's claustrophobic…" Dawn knelt by him, wincing slightly and he took her into his arm, giving and taking comfort.

Simon gritted his teeth. "I think you'll have to get in line to get at Sheila, Buffy. I think Nanny will want to go first."

"Can't we make it a family outing?" Buffy scooted on to the bed and ended up in front of Willow, putting her forehead against the red head's. "We've got you, Wills, we're all here for you."

"Mommy…I'm so lonely…Wan' Fluffles, please Mommy…please wan' Fluffles…Mommy….Cold…Mommy, potty! Potty, _please_, Mommy! I'll be good, Mommy, I'll be good…"

Joyce felt the tears run down her face. "Simon…how far back do those reports of the absences of the Rosenberg's go?"

"To her birth." Simon said his voice trembling with anger and grief.

"We'll have to check…how long she might have been locked in there…" Joyce shivered. "And I'm sorry, but I get first shot at Sheila." Her voice was hard and cold.

Willow's whispers and mutters died down and her shivers and shudders slowly subsided as she fell into a fitful sleep. Joyce stayed holding her.

"Simon…would you finish cooking? I want to stay with Willow for now."

Simon rather reluctantly let go and led the other children downstairs. Simon grabbed the report on Willow's parents from Joyce's roll top desk before he left the bedroom. Dawn ran to Willow's room and fetched Fluffles, putting the worn teddy bear next to Willow. Joyce smiled at her and Dawn went downstairs, Simon gave her a hug as she arrived in the kitchen and she moved over to the Island where Xander was studying the reports and Buffy was cutting and slicing. They prepared dinner together in silence.

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Clarice arrived with Cecilia and James, talking excitedly about the retrieval of Marcie.

Clarice looked around, noting the sad faces and subdued atmosphere. "What's wrong? Is anything the matter with Kit?"

"Willow…we found out why's she's claustrophobic." Xander said in a toneless voice as he stared at a page in the report.

James moved to stand behind Xander. "Her father was away for a week while she was four?"

"Yes." Xander said in the same dead tones. "And she may have spent all that week alone in a dark cupboard. For breaking a vase and bothering her mother while she was working."

Cecilia looked aghast. "A week…"

"Willow never went into the basement of her parents' house, ever since I knew her…there's a cupboard there. A small one with a drain…Ira once told me they intended to make it into a shower." Xander's voice was cold and hard.

Clarice made a gurgling, sobbing noise and ran into the living room.

"Hellfire!" Cecilia swore and followed her daughter.

The others in the kitchen looked after her in surprise.

James ran a hand through his hair. "Clarice…it was a favoured punishment at the orphanage. She doesn't like small spaces either."

Simon grimaced. "And here I thought that _that_ Orphanage at least was better…"

James shrugged. "It wasn't bad as such places go I believe…but if Clarice was anything like the other girls…They may have been desperate."

Buffy snorted. "I somehow can't picture Mom as a hell raiser."

"You'd be surprised…." James said with a smile. "She was quite…rebellious…in her teen years."

Buffy, Xander and Dawn exchanged looks. "If you say so Granddad." Buffy finally said.

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Joyce gently shook Willow awake. "Willow…we need to go down to eat and then we're going to get Kit."

Willow yawned and rubbed her eyes with her fists as s he woke up. "Wha…what happened."

"You had hysterics, a flashback, or a combination of the two."

"Oh…" Willow's eyes widened in shock. "Oh! I remember! She…Sheila locked me in the cupboard in the basement…" Her words fell into a whisper as she spoke and tears came to her eyes.

Joyce hugged her close. "My poor baby…"

"She gave me a cup of water and some bread each day…She took my clothes away, to keep them clean…" Willow started sobbing again.

"Shhh, Willow, I've got you. You're safe…"

"She…She let me out just before Ira came home…" Willow's eyes were filled with anguish and anger.

Joyce held Willow as the girl sobbed and raged. After ten minutes Willow quieted and Joyce led her to the bathroom, handing her a flannel and a towel and watched as her red headed daughter washed her face and tried to remove the ravages of her break down. Willow looked at her reflection in the mirror and Joyce gave her a hug.

"Come on, from the smell I'd say we're getting Chicken Kiev."

"Hmmm…Nice." Willow trailed down the stairs after Joyce.

When they arrived downstairs she was immediately enveloped in a hug by Xander, who handed her off to Simon, who handed her to Buffy, and then Dawn, James and Cecilia. She was rather surprised by the strength and length of the hug from Clarice.

"Ummm…Aunt Clarice? You can let go now…"

"Hmmm…what if I don't want to?" Was the teasing answer.

"Kinda hungry?"

"Ah, well there is that." She moved her mouth closer to Willow's ear. "Willow, if you want to talk…I've been there…"

Willow blinked. "Oh…okay."

Cecilia cleared her throat. "Dinner's getting cold. And Kit will be disappointed if we're late…"

"Do we know how Marcie's doing?" Buffy asked as she went into the dining room.

"Arlene said she'd be here for dinner…I expect them to be here any minute. And apparently she now wants to be called Evy." Cecilia said.

Willow looked down at the table as she sat down. "I-I should have noticed something was wrong with her…"

Xander reached out and took her hand. "_We_ should have noticed Wills…we all fell down on the job. Well, not so much the job as being her friend; or just being there for her, but you know what I mean."

"Think we can make it up to her?" Willow asked with a trembling lip.

"We'll have to try." Xander said gravely.

There was a noise from the kitchen and Simon and Joyce came in carrying some of the food, James following with the rest.

The front door bell rang and Clarice went to open it Arlene and Evy stood in the doorway, Evy tucked under her mother's arm, looking shyly at the woman.

"Hello…you must be Evy. I'm your Aunt Clarice."

"H-hello."

Arlene pushed the girl slightly ahead and Clarice embraced her. "Welcome sweetie. Now come in and eat. I hope you like Chicken Kiev with baked potatoes, beans and salad?"

"I-I think so?"

"Well, we'll find out. Come on. Arlene, you look starved."

Arlene grinned. "Yeah, it's been a hectic day. C'mon Evy, time to meet the rest of the family."

Arlene drew her daughter with her and led her into the dining room. Evy tried to hide behind her mother but Arlene drew her up to her side, putting an arm around the girl's too slim shoulders. "Everyone…this is my wonderful daughter Evy."

Cecilia rather timidly came forward and put a hand to her new granddaughter's face. "I'm sorry I came on so strong dear…I thought shock tactics might be needed to make you realize that you could control your invisibility. I'm Cecilia Ellis, you can call me Gran, if you want."

Evy looked quickly at Cecilia and then back down. "'kay."

"May I hug you?" Cecilia asked gently.

"Y-yeah? You want to?"

"O honey…all of us would love to. Come here." Cecilia drew Evy into her arms and held her tightly for a while. Then she let go and held her at arm's length, tears in her eyes. "And this is my husband, your grandfather, James. He's much nicer than me, at least according to your mother and Aunts."

Clarice, Arlene and Joyce all blushed. "MOM!" They chorused.

"Oh I've heard you say it dear…I've always been the one to punish and James always the one to reward and spoil…" She sounded slightly wistful. "I'll try and keep to the spoiling with my grandchildren."

James smiled and drew Evy into his arms. "Well you can stop hogging this one…I want to hug my pretty new granddaughter as well…" He held Evy, who put her arms around him; unlike she had done with Cecilia. Cecilia looked sad at that, but smiled a little when Xander came up and hugged her.

James handed Evy over to Clarice after giving her a kiss on the forehead. Clarice handed her to Simon and Simon to Buffy.

"Hey Evy…good to see you." There were general groans from the entire room. To everyone's surprise Evy giggled.

'You're funny. I heard you make jokes while you fought things…"

Buffy grinned at the rest of the family as she hugged Evy. "Hah! Someone who gets me and the quippage!"

"Oh we get you Buffy…we just don't think you're all that funny." Clarice said with a wink.

Buffy stuck out her tongue. "You're just jealous none of your evil psychos were ever into punning and repartee."

"Oh, there were several, Lecter chief among them…but that didn't make it into the papers."

Evy froze. "Y-you're not going to arrest me?"

Clarice chuckled. "No Federal crimes committed, dear, you're safe from me at least."

"Oh…"

Willow moved in behind Evy and hugged her as well. "Don't worry, you're safe. Dad won't let anything happen to you."

Simon nodded. "Quite true…not that most people would believe it anyway…"

Evy moved from Xander's to Dawn's embrace and then back to Arlene. Arlene hugged her shortly and looked ruefully at the set table.

"I think the food is cold now Joyce…"

"There are things that are more important than food 'Lene. And family is one of them. Now let's sit and eat." Evy sat down by her mother, occasionally reaching out to touch the older woman.

Whenever Evy seemed especially uncertain or timid Arlene hugged Evy, whispering comforting words in her ear.

They ate rather quickly and prepared to leave when Clarice's mobile went. She got it out and sighed.

"Work. I'll have to take it."

She walked into the kitchen as the others started trooping out of the house. James and Cecilia exchanged glances and then looked at Joyce. "We'll wait for Clarice. I hope it's nothing serious."

Joyce bit her lip. "So do I…"

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Clarice spoke into the phone.

"Agent Starling."

"Starling, this is Director Fitzgerald. What the hell is this?"

"Sir?"

"Starling…I know you were told to write a resignation…And what I get is a request for medical leave?"

"Yes sir."

"Starling…there's not a director in the Bureau who wants you after that little scene in Quantico. So I hope that this is a prelude to that resignation. I'm willing to give you some leeway on this because of your reputation and for the good of the Bureau…but don't push me too far. I'll offer three months medical leave and then I want that resignation. And if you want to be able to open a newspaper without people making fun of your obsession with vampires, I suggest you say it is so you can go write books or hold lecture tours."

Clarice dug in her pocket and came up with the piece of paper that Simon had given her just before dinner. "Sir, I'm afraid not. If you want further information you might want to call the following number sir, and say Hickory Dickory dock." She rattled of the number.

"What the hell are you playing at, Starling?"

"Me sir? Nothing? _*However__the__former__Grand__Magister__is__more__than__a__little__pissed__off__at__you__for__not__telling__me__the__truth__about__Secret__Executive__Order__Number__One.*_ She thought though herself with grim amusement.

"If this is a joke, Starling…"

"Not a joke, sir. The person who gave me the number would not make a joke about things like this."

"Very well. "I'll be calling you back."

Clarice stood looking at the phone dumbly for a bit and then sighed. She walked back into the foyer and saw her parents sitting in the living room, waiting for her. She smiled at them wanly.

"Well I hope Simon's contact will take care of things." She sighed and sat down. "But I don't think he knows people high enough up the FBI food chain to help me really."

She curled up on the couch and felt her mother's arms go round her and she sighed. She might lose her job, her vocation, but she _had_ found a family, and that was more than she had expected ever to have again. She sat in frightened silence for ten minutes.

Her phone rang and she picked up. "Starling." Cecilia and James watched her eyes grow wide and her mouth drop open as she practically sat to attention.

"Good evening, Mr. President. Yes sir, C-Clarice Starling. Yes sir." Clarice blinked and she smiled. "Yes sir. Thank you, sir. I'm sorry you were bothered so late at night, sir. Good evening."

Clarice looked at her phone in bemusement for about half a minute. Then she shook herself. "My brother is an irritating, evil, conniving, magnificent bastard." She grinned widely.

"He called the FUCKING PRESIDENT!"

Cecilia lightly tapped Clarice on the ear. "Language, dear!"

"He called the President of the United States for me! He called the President for _me_, Mom! I thought he was joking about that!" Clarice looked awed and then annoyed. "And he didn't tell me, the big dork!"

Cecilia chuckled. "You mean he just handed you that number and told you it would be alright?"

"Yeah. Well, I admit we were all busy with Kit and Evy and Willow, but still!"

James smiled. "So what's the problem then?"

Cecilia chuckled. "I think she's mostly just annoyed he didn't tell her and is catching up forty years of being annoyed at her brother in one fell swoop."

Clarice grinned. "I suppose so. I'm so gonna kick him in the shins when I see him next!"

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	42. Chapter 42

**Author's note:**

**This chapter is dedicated to my beloved aunt and godmother, who passed away last Friday at the age of 82, in her sleep and who will be dearly missed by her 2 children, seven step-children, 43 grandchildren, 6 great grandchildren and 1 great-great grandchild. I will miss you too. **

**Many thanks to my Beta's Letomo and Twilightwanderer. A short note: **

**Speech:** "Who's on first."

**Thought:** *_What__'__s__on__second._*

**Vision:** #_I-don__'__t-know__'__s__on__third._#

**I will go back throughout the story and change that later, bit by bit. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the reference…**

**Please note I've changed the ratings of several of my stories to better reflect the content. I will write violence, but considering what I see on TV these days, I doubt it's gruesome enough to warrant FR21. It is also highly unlikely I will ever produce a true FR 21 story… **

**Thanks all for reviewing (and defending) me. It is much appreciated.**

**More reviews are, of course, always appreciated. ;-) Please note I often take ideas from these reviews to tweak the story (or add to others) so please don't hesitate. Constructive criticism is most welcome. And in private reviews I sometimes even reveal stuff!**

**Many thanks for the latest to recommend me, Civ and SamuraiCatfan. **

**Oh, and everybody raise their hands who hates Sheila the way I write her/about her. **

**This is going up now because I have no backbone…And I was planning to update the Dark Portrait but I forgot my USB. **

_Chapter 44: Visions and distractions_

Cecilia Ellis strode into the hospital like a conqueror into a fallen town. Nurses scurried out of her way and the receptionist at the duty desk quailed as she approached.

"I'm here to visit my granddaughter. Katherine Holburn."

"Err…visiting hours are…" Cecilia glared. The receptionist visibly paled and swallowed. She hurriedly consulted the computer and then looked up again. "P-private suite One, second floor, go left at the elevators Ma'am."

"Thank you young lady. Clarice, James?"

Clarice stopped at the desk for a minute. "Sorry about that. She's worried."

The receptionist grinned. "A formidable lady."

"Oh, yes."

"Clarice!"

Clarice grinned at her mother's call. "My mother's voice…I'd better go." She winked at the receptionist and sauntered insolently to the lift. "You called, mother? "

Cecilia eyed her eldest with an amused glint in her eye. "Apologizing for your old mother? Or just gossiping."

"Both." Clarice replied blandly.

Cecilia smiled. "Scamp."

Clarice blinked. "Scamp?"

"What were you expecting dear, a spanking?"

Clarice grinned. "I hope I'd have to commit a grosser sin than that to earn corporeal punishment."

"Clarice, if I have to even contemplate it at your age you'll be in more trouble than you can imagine." Cecilia lifted an eyebrow and grinned. The elevator halted and the three exited and walked to private suite one.

Cecilia knocked and there was a timid 'come in'. The entire family seemed to be gathered around a young girl lying in the bed and Cecilia went in immediately.

She kissed and hugged Joyce, Arlene, Simon and the children and gently kissed Evy, who was sitting on her mother's lap on the guest bed, looking around dazedly.

"Hello dear. You must be Kit. I'm Cecilia Ellis and I hope I'm going to be your new grandmother."

She smiled at the girl and Kit blinked between her and James who sat down by her bed in a chair vacated by Dawn.

"And I'm James Ellis and I'm going to be your grandfather."

Kit blinked owlishly between them. "Oh…errr. That's nice?"

Cecilia smiled and patted Kit's hand. "I hope so dear, and I expect so. Now, there's someone you yet have to meet and I want you to give your word you won't bounce and that you'll be careful."

Kit nodded and shrugged. "Sure, I promise."

Clarice took a hesitant step forward and gave a small wave. "Hello. I'm Clarice. I'm your foster mother's eldest sister." _*And__your__foster__father__'__s__younger__one,__but__lets__skip__that__bit__of__family__history__for__now__…__*_

Kit blinked. Then her eyes went very wide and turned to the book on her bedside table. And then back to the woman who now stood at the foot of her bed, her hands loosely around the bar at the end. And then to Joyce. "Your sister?"

Joyce nodded. "Yes. Sorry. I fear we tend toward the theatrical."

"I'm gonna live with the sister of Clarice Starling?"

"Well, if you want."

"I-I…Is this a joke?" She suddenly asked suspiciously. "Are you a look alike?

Clarice grinned and moved to Kit's side, taking out her badge. "No, not a joke. Not a look alike. I will admit this is an awful picture." She handed the badge to the girl and Kit accepted it with a trembling hand.

"Oh…wow…this is SOOOOOOO COOOOLLLLLLLLL!" Kit started bouncing, her face wreathed in smiles. "?Imean, whyisthereadifference??" her breathless babble was so unlike her usually measured speech it made everyone blink in surprise.

"KIT! No bouncing!" Joyce, Arlene, Cecilia, Simon, James and Clarice all called out at once. Clarice reached out a gently restraining hand at the suddenly frightened looking girl.

"Sorry…" Kit said with a crestfallen look.

"Oh it's alright… we're just worried. Now, I understand you'll be allowed to leave tonight?" Clarice asked soothingly.

"Yeah. They're afraid I'll pick up some bug or something in the hospital."

Clarice grinned. "Well…you get to sleep in Buffy's room for now, and while I'm staying In Sunnydale, we'll be bunking together."

Kit's mouth fell open and then she smiled. "Awesome."

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"This is going to be home. This house and the one next door too." Joyce said to Kit as Simon gently carried the girl inside.

"Okay." She looked a bit confused as she was put on the couch and then beckoned to Joyce who moved over to sit with her.

"Yes, Kit?"

"I thought he was rich?" She whispered in Joyce's ear while nodding towards Simon. "This place is just…" She shrugged slightly at the normality of the place.

Joyce looked amused. "He is. Do you know about Banker's Manor?"

Kit nodded. "Yeah, the really big empty place."

Joyce smiled. "Yes, that one. Well that and the entire park around it are all Simon's and he's got lots more houses, but he likes living here. He doesn't like living like that, so that's why we're here."

"He owns…" Kit looked wide eyed at Simon who was talking to James and discussing the changes that needed to be made to connect number 1630 to 1628.

Willow grinned and sat next to her. "He's richer than he looks."

"Hey! I was gonna say that!" Buffy griped as she leaned over the back of the couch.

Clarice sat down on the couch opposite. "He also knows interesting people…don't you Simon?" Her voice was repressive.

Simon looked unfazed by her tone. "Yes." He seemed unconcerned and ready to return to his conversation with James about load bearing walls.

"Why didn't you tell whose help you were going to get me?"

Simon blinked. "I did."

Clarice rose and ran a hand through her hair, raising and facing off against him. "No, you didn't!"

"Oh…I must have merely implied it then. I'm sorry 'Ris." He put a hand on her shoulder and then hugged her. "But did everything work out?"

Clarice gave him a look. "I get a six month medical leave, longer if I want it…And after my application to the post, the Directorship of Special Operations West Coast is mine. Apparently there's going to be an investigation to see why I wasn't cleared on the supernatural once I started running in to it."

"Excellent."

"And I got called by the President…"

"Yes?"

"I got called by the _President_." Clarice repeated. The other conversations had fallen silent now and everybody was looking at Simon and Clarice.

"Yes?"

"Simon! You called the President to bail me out of trouble!" Clarice almost shouted at him.

"You shouldn't have been in trouble in the first place; you should have been fully briefed on the supernatural as soon as you discovered it. I merely made certain you had the best possible defence against those who for unknown reasons, decided to do otherwise. They will be investigated and there will be a reckoning." Simon's voice was implacable.

"Simon…Are you going all family patriarch on me?"

Simon's mouth quirked. "Hardly…Clarice, I would have called on the President for this if I hadn't known you at all. The Bureau is not allowed to do what it did to you. And heads will roll."

"Oh." Clarice deflated slightly.

"However I would not have requested you to be considered for the post of Director of Special Operations West Coast if you'd been anybody else. Nor would I have called the President, I'd have sent him a letter. Or have the new Grand Magister do it at any rate." He took her in a new hug and whispered something only Buffy managed to hear.

"I'll always try to keep you as safe as I can, little sister, and still let you be you. Please give me that."

Clarice hugged him tightly.

Kit looked at Joyce again. "He knows the _President_?" She asked disbelievingly.

Willow, Xander, Buffy and Dawn made similar noises. Evy merely looked awed.

Joyce chuckled. "Yes, he does. Don't worry about it, he still falls over when the tries to put on his trousers both feet at a time." Kit giggled.

Simon sighed. "I get no respect."

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Kit was sleeping in Buffy's bed, exhausted by the move from the hospital to the Summers' house and a half hour of conversation. Clarice and Joyce had tucked her in together and kissed her forehead and Clarice had put her night things on the camp bed.

Evy was sleeping as well, in Arlene's arms in one of the basement guestrooms. Both were exhausted by the emotions of the day.

The other older children were sent to bed a little later and the adults followed fairly soon. Friday was a school day, even if it was going to be the day of the Talent Show.

Willow lay looking up at the ceiling, Fluffles clutched to her chest and her eyes moving from ceiling to wall to the large French doors. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself. The door opened and Joyce came in, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs. "Hello Willow."

"Mom." Willow looked down at Fluffles.

"I thought you might want to talk about it…"

"I-I was sorta expecting that, yeah…"

Joyce sat down, handing a mug to Willow. "Warm milk?"

"Please." Willow nodded, accepting the mug, blowing on the steaming surface of the milk.

Joyce looked at the tense girl in the bed for a few minutes. "Well?"

"I-I'm angry, and scared and sad and _angry_." Willow swallowed. "And…And I'm afraid to go to sleep."

"Oh? Why?" Joyce sipper her milk, knowing quite well what answer to expect.

"I have nightmares…one's about frogs…one used to be about public speaking, and one you know, the common nude in the classroom and stuff?" She looked at Joyce who shuddered.

"Yes, I remember those…"

Willow took another sip of milk. "B-but the last one is about…the cupboard…I-I haven't had that one in a long time…" Willow swallowed convulsively.

Joyce eyed her daughter and nodded. "I see. And how did Sheila and Ira deal with your nightmares?"

"When they were there you mean?" Willow said sadly. "Ira sometimes brought me a glass of water and tucked me in."

Joyce sighed. "I see. Well I think it's quite likely you'll be having a nightmare tonight. Stay here a minute." She put down the mug and left, returning a minute or so later.

"Well…I have a proposal…when Dawn and Buffy had nightmares; they slept with me and Hank…or later just with me, sometimes." She looked at Willow hesitantly. "I know you're…Ooomph."

Willow had thrown herself at her mother and buried her face in Joyce's shoulder. Joyce smiled down at the red hair. "I take it that is a yes?"

"Yes. Please. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"I wouldn't have offered if we did. You will be in bed with your dad as well."

Willow's eyes widened. "Oh…of course…err…won't he mind?"

"I went and asked him…he's comforted crying children before and had them in his bed. He seemed more worried about you than anything else."

"Oh…who?" Willow sounded almost jealous.

"Margaret and Marcel's children, and Jed and Abby's."

"Oh…Yeah. When do we get to meet all of them?" Willow asked curiously.

"Well…we still need to discuss this…but Simon was thinking of Christmas at Vlughwater, so we'd meet Jed and Abbey and their children then." Joyce looked slightly worried.

Willow smiled. "At least you know Margaret likes you…"

Joyce gave her a searching look. "Has Buffy been telling tales?"

Willow tried to look innocent, but her smirk caused it to fail. "Would she do that to you?"

Joyce sighed "Yes. Now, are you ready? I know I'm quite tired."

Willow flushed suddenly. "Errr… won't I be…errr…I mean you two…"

Joyce grinned wickedly. "Willow…contrary to what you seem to think, we are quite able to make it through the night without sex. Barely."

Willow blushed beet red. "MOM!"

"You started it." Joyce said teasingly.

Willow fell back on the bed and covered her flaming face with a pillow. "Great. Now I'll have nightmares for sure."

"Just substitute Dave and yourself and everything will be fine." Joyce stated blandly.

"MOM!"

"Yes, Willow?" Joyce asked sweetly.

"I'm not gonna win this am I?"

"Probably not, dear. Why don't you get what you need and come with me. You need to sleep."

"You really don't mind going to bed this early?"

"After the excitement of the day? I think both your father and I can do with a good long night's rest."

"Okay. You're sure…" Willow started and Joyce grabbed her by the arm, dragging her up, grabbed Fluffles by the neck and looked a question at Willow who was standing by the bed in her sensible green PJ's.

"Anything else you need?"

"N-no…"

"Come on then." She guided Willow out of the room, over the arch, into the master bedroom. Simon was on the very edge of the bed, wearing a set of deep blue silk pyjamas and reading a hard bound book she recognized as an illustrated Sherlock Holmes.

"Hello Willow. Now comes the difficult question." He smiled at her. "Who sleeps on which part of the bed?"

Willow hesitated, hugging Fluffles close to her chest.. She looked at Joyce with a pleading look on her face.

Joyce put an arm around her. "Buffy and Dawn always slept in the middle. But if you prefer I take the middle, that's no problem."

"M-middle, please." Willow whispered.

Simon smiled and beckoned. Willow bounced over to the top of the bed on hands and knees with the enthusiasm of a much younger girl, with almost Tigger-like abandon, and crawled under the duvet, hugging Fluffles under her chin. Joyce rather more calmly, but with a distinctly amused expression on her face, got under the covers on her own usual side. Simon took off his glasses and put them on the side and Joyce checked that her own were within easy reach. Joyce leaned slightly over Willow and Simon leaned towards her and they kissed, Willow smirked, blushing. She stopped smirking when both of them kissed her forehead and they turned off the bedside lights.

Willow lay for a few minutes, stiff and wide eyed between her parents, until Joyce reached out and drew her close. When Willow woke up the next morning, she could not remember ever having slept better or felt safer.

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Arlene sat brushing Evy's hair. The other children had all gone to the school but Evy wasn't officially a pupil anymore. And Arlene was not about to let her out of her sight either.

"Do you want to go to the Talent Show?"

Evy bit her lip. "Do I have to…I did bad things there."

"Of course not. That's why I asked." Arlene said with a smile.

"Rather not then."

"Then we'll go shopping this morning and afternoon and we take care of Kit this evening; that okay with you?"

"Yeah." Evy nodded.

"Evy…do you want to stay here? Near Kit?" Arlene asked gently.

"Yeah. But you need to work in Chicago, so we go there."

"I've asked for a sabbatical and I'll see about getting a job here at UC Sunnydale."

Evy turned around, her eyes wide. "Why?"

"Oh Evy…I was stupid enough to give you up once…do you honestly think I'll ever do it again? You need the stability of this place, of Kit, being here." Arlene said softly.

"For me? But…your career!"

"I gave you up once for my stupid career Evy, and it wasn't worth it." Arlene touched her daughter's face gently.

Evy blinked and sighed and then turned and leaned back into her mother as the older woman brushed her hair.

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Buffy walked into the library to confer with Giles, followed closely by Xander and Willow. "Heya Giles."

"Buffy, Willow, Xander, good morning."

"Well Evy, she ditched Marcie, is safe with the family and the entire family except for Evy, Kit and aunt Arlene is gonna be watching our humiliation tonight." Buffy said facetiously.

"Ah…so errr…Evy…has become visible again?"

"Ayup." Buffy jumped up to sit on the table and was flanked by her brother and sister.

"Buffy…c-can I talk to you in private for a few minutes?" Giles looked uncomfortable and Buffy looked at him for a bit before shrugging.

"Sure. Wait for me here, guys?" Xander nodded but Willow looked a bit unhappy. Buffy rolled her eyes. "Just go find the boyfriend and bring him here. Sheesh." She winked and Willow blushed but ran away happily to find Dave. Buffy joined Giles in the small office and Xander opened one of the large tomes that lay on the table after first looking at Giles for permission, which was given by a gracious wave. No freeing demons by accident, ever again!

"So, what's up?" Buffy asked, eyeing the bags and equipment in the office curiously.

"I-I-I'd like to ask your permission to tell Miss Calendar you are the Slayer."

"Miss Calendar? As in Miss Calendar who helped kick Moloch out of the Internet Miss Calendar?"

"Yes."

"As in can cast spells and is Willow's favourite teacher, Miss Calendar?"

"Yes."

"Miss Calendar, as in the Comp Sci teacher you're sweet on, Miss Calendar?"

"Yes, I mean no!" Giles flushed and Buffy giggled.

"Don't try to deny it Giles; no one will believe it anyway. You haven't told her yet?"

"It's not my secret to share, Buffy. "Giles pointed out.

Buffy pulled at her lip. "She's one of the good guys, right?"

"I'd say so, yes. On the 'good' at least. On the 'guy', I don't think so." Giles said dryly.

Buffy snorted. "Well you'll probably find out for sure tonight, if you didn't have pretty good idea already. You may tell her."

"Thank you, Buffy." Giles said with a mixture of sarcasm and genuine gratitude.

"Anything else I should know about? Invasions by demons? Zombie pirates rising, carrying cutlasses in their teeth?"

"I think not. And I'd imagine they'd land on the coast anyway, so that would give us a few minutes to prepare." Giles answered with a twinkle in his eyes.

Buffy grinned. "Well, we can hope. Nothing then?"

"Except the looming horror of the Talent Show? No."

Buffy sighed. "Ah well, can't use that as a valid excuse to escape my stage debut then."

"I fear not." Giles opened the door for Buffy and she walked into the library.

Buffy looked around and saw Xander sitting at the table, reading the book. "Wills not back yet?"

Xander's mouth quirked. "Yes. But there was this really interesting book at the back of the stacks she wanted to show Dave…"

Giles smirked. Buffy rolled her eyes. "I'll go get them. They can't miss class just 'cause they're kissing or making out. Mom would not be amused."

"Even if the first class is biology." Xander said with a wide grin. Buffy muttered something and went into the stacks, following the slight noises made by the young couple.

She found them deep in the bowels of the Science department, a book, open on the retractable shelf beside them, was obviously Willow's ostensible reason for being here. Dave had both his hands in Willow's hair and Willow had one hand under Dave's shirt and the other at the back of his head, pulling him closer. Buffy coughed. "Are you two aware that there is such a thing as class?"

The two flew apart, eyes wide. Willow's hair was slightly disarrayed, her chest was heaving and her lips were a bit swollen, but it was clear that nothing more had happened to her than kissing. But Dave's shirt was partly open and in clear disarray.

Buffy smirked. "Copping a feel, Wills?"

Willow blushed furiously as did Dave, though there was a slight grin on his face as well.

Buffy looked at her watch. "Sorry to break up the wrestling match, but we gotta book, class soon."

Willow nodded and ran her hands through her hair in an attempt to make it look nothing happened. Dave straightened his clothes. Buffy mused it was probably good Willow only wore some clear lip gloss and not something more colourful, otherwise Dave would be covered in marks.

They set off to class at the first bell.

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The mall was quiet, it was after all early in the school day and the flood of teenagers would not rise until they managed to escape through the sluice gates of the educational facilities that held them back.

Evy was standing in the middle of a large clothing store and looking around with wide eyes as her mother smiled.

"You'll need quite a few things love, and don't worry about the money. I don't spend much on myself."

"But…I-I..."

Arlene took her daughter in her arms and gave her a firm hug. "Don't worry, we can do it together. Or do you want to go to the hairdresser first?"

"Hairdresser?"

"Yes love, you need a haircut…"

Evy looked blank. "You're not gonna do it in the kitchen?"

"No dear."

"Do I need to dye my hair?"

"Whatever you want love. Well within reason. I don't think a purple Mohawk would be you. But why did you dye your hair?"

"The Rosses wanted me to look more like them. They said it might make me more like family."

Arlene snorted. "Then why would I want you to dye your hair? Have you looked at mine?"

Evy smiled and eyed the flaming deep auburn hair her mother sported. "Looks like my hair."

"There's your answer then. Now, would you like to go to the hairdresser?" Arlene grinned enticingly and pointed outside. "It's just over there…"

Evy fingered her hair, stained a fading black and flat and dead, and then looked at her mother's that despite its short length was wavy and full of life. "Yeah. That would be good"

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Arlene sat in a seat at the hairdressers watching as handsome young man was cooing over Evy and cutting her hair with great skill. The slight layering was undoing the ruthless hacks her adoptive mother had perpetrated upon her. Evy was blossoming under his assurances that she was beautiful and had gorgeous hair. And that with a little work her skin would gleam like polished alabaster like her mother's. Arlene rolled her eyes. She might not be as good at spotting those who worshipped at the altar of Antinous as Joyce was, but this young man was really too obvious. She sank back in her seat and watched Evy bloom and suddenly the vision struck.

_#Two men in dark suits with dark glasses dragging Evy into a black van, Arlene herself lying on the ground next to the rental, clothes and accessories strewn around her, with blood running from a head wound, her eyes glazing over in death. Evy screaming and crying and the two men driving off, with Evy in the back.# _

Arlene came out of her vision with a gasp. She looked at Evy and swallowed heavily. She took out her phone with trembling hands and quietly called some people.

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Xander took Dave aside as soon as he could, just after the first period. "Hey. Be careful when talking to Wills about the punishment."

Dave gave him a look. "That bad?"

"No…we just found out why Will is claustrophobic. Her mother locked her in a cupboard when she was four. For a week." Xander's anger was clear in his voice and face.

Dave's face contorted in fury. "That evil, cold-hearted _bitch_."

"If you want to kill her, you need to get in line."

Dave smiled. "Yeah…I can imagine. Thanks Xander."

"De nada." The two boys went to find the girls.

They found them in the library and Dave hugged Willow and kissed her cheek. Willow burrowed into his embrace which was comforting rather than anything else. "Xander told you?" She said, looking at her older brother fondly, if with exasperation, before looking up at Dave.

"Yeah…I understand I have to get in line?"

Buffy nodded and cracked her knuckles. "Oh yeah, there's a definite queue." _*Did__I__just__say__that?__Sheesh,__I__'__ve__been__hanging__with__the__Brits__too__long!*_

Dave smiled and continued his hug until the bell went. Giles went into his office, took out the costume bag, put it on his desk and sighed as he started unpacking it, wincing at each item.

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They were carrying bags in each hand and Evy was wearing all new clothes she'd picked herself, to go with her new coupe. Her hair hung down to just below the level of her chin and the barber had managed to strip most of the bad dye out of it, leaving it much more like her natural colour. Evy had refused to have it dyed again, preferring to let it grow out naturally.

Arlene's rental car stood on the parking lot and they were nearing it when the black van drew up next to them and two men in black suits jumped out, while a third sat in the cab. One of the men seized Evy while the other fended off Arlene. Suddenly they froze and the car engine seized up and coughed. Cecilia stepped out from behind the car she had been hiding behind and James stepped out from another. Simon and Clarice drove up in one of MIC's company cars.

Hurst and Bchenka walked up to the cab and Bchenka quickly patted down the driver while Hurst did the same to the two men outside. Each man carried a gun and a mobile phone but no form of identification. Hurst and Bchenka handcuffed the three men's hands behind their backs.

The men started violently when time and movement returned to them. One started to speak but was stopped when Clarice hunkered down and showed her badge. "You're under arrest for attempted kidnapping."

"You have no right to hold us." The man sneered. "No crime was committed."

Simon leaned down and looked into the man's eyes. "Actually, I think you will find that among myself, Major Ellis and Special Agent in Charge Starling we can most certainly arrest you on many different counts both military and civil."

The man smirked. "We'll be free within hours."

"Oh, I seriously doubt that." Simon replied as he took out a phone and dialled. "Gold, repeat, gold." And hung up again.

Simon pocketed the phone and looked at Hurst and Bchenka. "Load them up and take them to the factory. We'll follow."

The bodyguards nodded and swung the three men into the back of the van. Bchenka got in the front and drove off, Hurst following in the black BMW. Danielle walked out slowly towards the group and smiled. She looked pale and a bit drawn.

Cecilia smiled back. "That was some good shielding Danielle."

"Thank you, Cece. It was a bit tiring though."

"I can imagine." Cecilia said commiserating.

Danielle smiled at Evy and took a step forward to great her and staggered. Simon rushed to her side. "Nanny? Are you alright?"

"Just a bit tired dear. I haven't done a serious working in a long time." She leaned into him and he Cecilia saw a tremor run through her.

"I'm taking you to the Clinic." The worry in Simon's voice was obvious.

"Simon, I just over did it a bit. I'll be fine." Danielle protested. Simon ignored her and led her to his car. Danielle stumbled again and her swept her off her feet and carried her.

"Simon, put me down this instant!"

"I don't think so. Be glad I'm not calling an ambulance."

"But…"

Cecilia rolled her eyes. "The boy is worried Danielle. And honestly, you look terrible."

Danielle sighed and crossed her arms, pouting in a very Willow like manner. "Ridiculous."

"We'll see." Simon said as he gently placed her in the front seat. Clarice got in the back seat, amused at Simon's fussing over the seat belt. Danielle sighed again, a picture of Jewish Weltschmerz.

Evy looked at her grandmother. "Y-you…did that?"

"I froze them. Danielle, that's Willow's grandmother and Simon's old Nanny, she kept people from noticing. And you know your mother had a vision."

Arlene shuddered. Evy gave her a look. "Yeah…and she wouldn't tell me how bad it was…Mom?"

"Evy…it was bad, okay?"

"Mom…they were gonna kidnap me…what happened to you?'

"Evy…"

Cecilia looked at her daughter. "Arlene…"

Arlene stepped up to Evy and hugged her tight. "They wanted to take you, I would never allow that."

Evy froze. "You died. You would have died!"

"Evy...it didn't happen."

Evy's arms went tightly around Arlene and the older woman let out an oomph. "Evy…I need to breathe too…" She said in amused tone of voice.

"Sorry mom." Evy let go, but only a little.

"Evy, it's fine, I'm fine. It didn't happen like in the vision."

Cecilia shuddered and James put an arm around her. "No," he said thoughtfully, "but the fact they are willing to kill you to get their hands on Evy worries me greatly."

"The fact they wanted to kidnap Evy is bad enough. This just makes it worse. They must be stopped."

James nodded. "Let's get out of here." They got into their cars and went back to Revello Drive. Evy occasionally looked over her shoulder to where her Grandparents' car was following.

"Wow…That was kinda awesome."

Arlene nodded. "Yeah."

"Umm…are you scared of Gran, mom?"

Arlene smiled. "Sometimes, just a little bit."

"Okay. So it's not a problem that I'm a little scared of her too?"

"Not at all dear."

Evy grinned suddenly. "Gran kicks ass."

Arlene's grin was just a trifle evil. "Oh yeah, Gran kicks ass."

**End note:**

**For those who are wondering, worshipping at the altar of Antinous means being a homosexual. Antinous was the young male lover of the Roman Emperor Hadrian. Antinous drowned while they were visiting Egypt and the sorrowing Hadrian ordered him deified and personally worshiped at his altar often.**

**For those who wonder: Simon once mentioned he has all of four real friends. Margaret and Marcel are known. Jed and Abbey have been referred to obliquely. Twilight wanderer pointed out, quite rightly, that I needed to clarify what children Simon had comforted. Doctors can't just crawl into the beds of their patients after all. So you get a little Simon back-story before I planned it… More about this will be revealed in another side story entitled _Sons__of__the__Revolution._**


	43. A woman of talent

**Author's Note: **

**Thanks very much to my Betas. Letomo and Twilight wanderer.**

**The following ways of notation may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the Abbott and Costello. **

**Speech:** "Who's on first."

**Thought:** *_What__'__s__on__second._*

**Vision:** #_I-don__'__t-know__'__s__on__third._#

**Glendon created a forum: As soon as I am able to figure out how, I'll be uploading some background stuff there, sort of a readers guide.**

.org

**Thanks to the latest to recommend me: UntitledAngel**

**_The__Greatest__love__of__all_ was written by Linda Creed and Micheal Masser. **

**_A__whole__new__world_ was written by Allen Menken and Tim Rice.**

**Reviews are much appreciated, they inspire me.**

_Chapter 45: A woman of talent_

Willow and Xander looked on as the blonde signed her name on a piece of paper stuck to the message board in the hall. "Harmony? You are going to walk around with the kids on Halloween?" Xander asked in amazement.

"Errr…yeah? Aren't you?"

Willow and Xander exchanged glances. "Why would we?"

"Y-You've got a little sister! Two now!" Harmony looked perplexed and angry. "You'd let them walk around alone? At night?"

Xander and Willow exchanged glances. Xander held out his hand. "Can I borrow your pen?"

"Sure." Harmony held it out with a smile. Xander signed first and then Willow. She solemnly gave Harmony her pen back.

"I'll make sure Buffy signs as well."

Harmony nodded and walked away.

Xander looked after her thoughtfully. "There might be just bit more to Harmony than we thought, Wills…"

Willow bristled. "J-just because she's had one good idea…" She wilted at Xander's look. "Okay, you're right…but it will take getting used to."

Buffy, Dave and Amy signed up later that day.

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Simon looked at the pouting red head on the examination table. She was sitting, swinging her legs and looking put upon, generally acting much younger than her years.

"Really Simon, I'm quite alright."

"Nanny, you fell asleep on the way here…"

"So I'm a bit tired from travelling. And I admit that I haven't used magic like that in a very long time. You know magic tires people out."

Simon rolled his eyes. "You need to rest. I'll take you home, and see you get some food and then after you'll get some rest."

"Oh, very well." She said with amused exasperation.

Simon sat up on the bed beside her. "Nanny, I worry, okay?"

"I know, Simon, I know." She smiled reassuringly.

"Talking about worry…Nanny…"

"I'm not moving to a Hellmouth, Simon. I'm staying right where I am."

"Yes, Nanny. Would you consider someone moving in with you?"

Danielle sighed. "I'm not taking in a nurse."

"Not a nurse. I was thinking more along the lines of a student. Just to know someone is in the house with you."

"A student? Some youthful party animal who vomits all over the bathroom?" Danielle gave him an arch look.

Simon's eyebrows lifted. "Talking from your own experience here, Nanny?"

"Very funny, Simon." Danielle scowled.

"I'll take you home and let you think about it, shall I?" Simon smirked.

"Oh, very well. Let's go then."

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Ira Rosenberg stood looking at the little pile of pebbles in his hand. He'd picked them up in many of the prettier cities and towns he'd visited. Two pebbles from each place. He knew he didn't visit enough. Sheila never wanted to come with him. He had recently come to understand why. With gentle, trembling fingers he placed the small stones, one by one, at either end of the grave marker.

He traced the letters carved into the stone with a finger and sighed. He knelt and dug up two little sods of grass with his knife, then took some earth from each side of the stone and carefully placed each small handful into a separate wooden box. He replaced the sods of grass and gently tamped them down. The silent tears that ran down his face watered them, but he rose and fetched a small watering can. He watered the grass, emptying the can. He carried it back to the faucet and put it in its place. He returned to the gravesite and placed the two boxes with earth in his bag. He crouched on the wet grass, ignoring the twinges in his knees and ran his hands over the letters again. Then he rose and left.

The sun shone down upon the stark carved letters and figures, and left glistening tracks upon the wet grass. _Rowan__Davida__Rosenberg__03-21-1981,__Hazel__Dannah__Rosenberg__03-21-1981.__We__knew__you__not,__but__love__you__dearly_.

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Prue Halliwell stormed into the office of Roger Pritchett. "You complete and utter bastard!"

Roger looked up from where he was reading a letter. "Is there problem Prudence?"

Prue waved a piece of paper in her hand. "This! You bastard! You got the board to assign you to the Bealls exhibition! I negotiated with them to get them to release it for showing and you're stealing it from me!"

"Really Prue. The Board of Directors have merely decided, after taking advice from a senior curator; that an exhibition of such magnitude and importance is beyond your limited ah, experience." He smiled smugly.

"Beyond my limited abilities?" Prue hissed. "And what have you done exactly to bring the collection in?"

"That's hardly important Prue. What is important that the task of organizing this exhibit will go to someone who actually knows what he's doing. And with the added bonus of being offered the loan of a number of rare pieces by the Meier Foundation for the Arts we can draw in lots of people. The Rembrandts alone are going to make a huge splash, let alone the Vermeers."

"Oh, yes…Did you get the Meier Foundation for the Arts to allow the Museum to exhibit those? I suppose you did." Prue's voice was icy. "I suppose you talked and begged and finally got them to agree?" _*Ok,__I__asked__him__over__a__cup__of__tea__and__he__said__yes,__since__they__hadn__'__t__been__on__the__West__Coast,__in__like__forever,__but__still__…__*_

"Prudence, you are overreacting. You'll still be working closely with me to organize the exhibition. I will merely be taking over the more intricate parts of the negotiations with the Foundation and the Bealls family. I'm certain there's a great deal that you can learn."

Prue gave him a contemptuous look. "Roger…I doubt very much that there's anything you can teach me except for underhanded, evil sneakiness. I'm just glad that I found out about what you are like before we became more serious."

Roger sniffed disdainfully. "Well I can hardly rue that. You're obviously unbalanced and irrational."

"Well, I'm glad to hear your real opinion of me, Roger. I regret that I'll be seeing you." Prue stomped out of the office and Roger looked after her and sniffed again, before turning, gloating, to the long list of works in the possession of the Meier Foundation for the Arts to see what he could get for the Museum. Prue would come around, he was after all, a good catch and the chance to gain experience while working with him would be too good to pass up.

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The five men were locked into separate rooms, cells really, in the basement of the CRD building. They wore white terrycloth pyjamas and soft foam toe slippers. A foam mattress set into the floor, a button that could be pressed to provide a cupful of water, said soft foam cup and a hole in the floor for the disposal of human waste. Cameras in each cell showed what the men were doing. They seemed to be in quiet shock, unable to believe their current situation. Bottley opened a small hatch in the first of the metal doors and looked through the heavy mesh grille.

He closed the hatch again and checked the other prisoners. Then he went to the guard post and sat at the table where Clifton and Smith, both recently hired to strengthen the security around the ever growing family, were searching through the bags of material they had lifted from the house the men had been using. The two laptops that had been recovered sat on a separate table, awaiting the magical touch of Willow or one of the company's techs.

"What have we got so far?" The big man asked Hurst who was leaning against the door.

"Government agents; or at least the ID's show they are. Strangely enough they all have ID's for the CIA, FBI, and the ATF as well as assorted other agencies, including Wildlife…"

"Sounds perfectly legitimate to me." Bottley deadpanned.

"We think they're NID." Hurst scowled.

"I'd tend to agree, considering five is the usual number for an NID strike team." Bottley eyed the heap of weapons and badges.

"Bastards."

"Yeah." Bottley nodded his agreement.

"Call the Doctor? Or wait until after the show."

"Can't wait, he'll have to set things in motion. He is _not_ going to be happy."

"Yeah. The shit is going to hit the fan, and it's going to be frozen and the size of melons."

Bottley chuckled. "Sometimes I think you carry this mangling of figures of speech too far…"

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Evy sat looking at the amused faces of her family as Xander, Buffy and Willow, flanked by Amy and Dave, ate rapidly and talked excitedly. Willow seemed torn between apprehension and delight and was bouncing on her chair. Evy shared an occasional bemused look with Kit, who spent most of the meal chattering at Clarice. When they were done eating the group moved into the living room and she leaned into Arlene who hugged her tightly and tucked her under her chin as they settled on the couch. Joyce smiled at Simon who was unusually silent and seemed depressed. She sat on the rest of the chair he was seated on and saw the slight tremble that ran through him. She took his hand and gently led him from the room to the porch, ignoring the amuse looks and the chuckles from the rest of the family.

She sat him on the porch and then settled next to him.

"Well?"

"A group called the NID tried to kidnap Evy this afternoon."

"Arlene mentioned an attack…that would be bad enough, but what's the NID?"

"A very secret government agency whose existence is denied by the government. They're supposed to be an oversight committee for secret military operations. Regrettably they've taken to interfering where they think that things are not going fast enough or where insufficient use is made of available resources that might be used to protect the territorial and political integrity of the USA." Simon's face distorted in distaste. "I've had dealings with them in my function as Grand Magister…they've always wanted to use magic users, ignoring the Treaty of Rouen."

"Ummm…Treaty of Rouen?"

"It was signed by almost every nation after the death of Jehanne de Domrémy and certifies that no nation will encourage its magic users, or magical beings to engage in war upon other nations, or use or train them as weapons."

"Ah…Jehanne de Domrémy?"

"Joan of Arc…the last Slayer to also be a magic user. Few beings have the sort of power a Slayer-witch would have."

Joyce swallowed. "B-Buffy?"

"Is latent, but might break through. Jehanne wasn't a scion of a Great Spirit Line like Buffy is, just a normal witch, she had none of the lineage powers of a spirit user. And probably was considerably less powerful than Buffy would be if she broke through."

"Oh…"

"The Council of Watchers had Jehanne burned because she was too dangerous, according to them. No woman could be allowed to have that sort of power, or to defy the power of the Council. Rupert is in complete agreement we keep this silent."

Joyce's mouth quirked. "Rupert? I seem to recall you referred to him as that damnable evil Watcher not so long ago…"

Simon shrugged. "He's willing to put Buffy above the Council. That…Bernard did that, but not as much as Rupert seems willing to do."

"Will this NID go after the others?" Joyce said after a moment's silence.

"I doubt it. I think they went after Evy because they thought she was abandoned, lonely, easy to manipulate."

"Do you think they have others?"

"That's what I tried to find out. I've sent the information to Lilith, the Grand Magister and I'll let her handle the matter."

"And what will we do?"

"We'll keep the would-be kidnappers until a reputable agency comes to get them, or we deliver them. And we protect our children."

"I see…Do we tell them?"

"I think we have to, but after tonight. Let them have one more night where they can still think that humans at least will not do them harm."

Joyce snorted. "I think that bit of innocence was lost quite some time ago. But, very well, no reason to make them even more nervous tonight." She lightly kissed his lips. "There, now we can honestly say that some kissing was involved."

Simon grinned and grasped her as she rose, drawing her onto his lap. "I think I want a little more than just _some_ kissing…" Her protests were silenced by his lips on hers.

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The theatre was buzzing with excitement as the pupils started gathering for the show, changing into their costumes, getting ready to perform. The various musicians were wearing dresses and suits, the animal trainer had donned a fake leopard hide that allowed the world at large to see far too much white, pudgy flesh. The dancers were all in leotards, and though Emily would not be participating she was present to encourage them and to guide the choreography.

Both the magician and the ventriloquist had been dropped, the magician for being a (deceased) demon and the ventriloquist due to increasing weakness from his illness.

The stand up comedians wore much different things, one a Zoot suit that had seen much better days, the other jeans and a ratty t-shirt.

The singers varied from a slinky designer dress worn by Cordelia that had the males of the group gaping, to a punk rock outfit worn by Jonathan that had them wincing.

The New Stratford Players, as Joyce had jokingly called the Slayerettes, were in full medieval regalia. Dave and Xander were looking rather self conscious in the shiny chain and leather armour and velvet and brocade doublets and hose. Completely wrong for the period, as Joyce had pointed out, but it did look good.

Joyce stood backstage and grinned at her scowling daughters. Amy stood next to them and all three girls had their arms akimbo. "Okay, so why is it that we, the pretty girls, look ugly, while they the boys are dressed like Errol Flynn?"

"Actually Errol Flynn never wore armour, he was more a swashbuckling sort of guy." Xander pointed out.

Buffy waved a hand in dismissal of the argument. "The point is Xander, that next time we get to wear cool dresses and you guys will be in rags."

Xander exchanged a look with Dave. "Next time?" Dave asked with amusement in his voice.

Willow pouted prettily. "You mean you won't play with me again?"

Dave flushed and the others barely held in sniggers. Joyce very carefully kept her face straight, even at the cost of looking unnatural. _*__Oh__dear__…__she__'__s__going__to__be__hearing__that__for__years__…__*_

Willow blushed beet red when she realized exactly what she'd said and how it might be interpreted.

"That's not what I meant, that came out wrong, I meant act, I mean it's not like we…" She gulped when she saw Joyce's stony expression.

Joyce, seeing her frightened look finally couldn't hold in a giggle. Willow's blush deepened even further and Dave groaned. Buffy grinned. "Don't worry Wills, that's mom's 'I shouldn't laugh, so I'll look like a statue face.' You broke it. Well done."

Willow looked at the floor, still mortified. Joyce sighed and walked to her, took her arm and then gently dragged her to a quiet corner. She threw a remark over her shoulder as she did. "You might consider entering the school play or something like that. And _all_ of you can wear pretty dresses." She winked at Dave and Xander who both groaned again.

Joyce spotted a props chest and sat Willow down on it and leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, looking down. "Well?"

"Mom, I swear, Dave and I haven't done anything but kissing!" Willow was almost panicking.

"Really?" Joyce was carefully non committal in her tone and tried desperately to keep her grin of her face.

"Well…I may sorta have put my hands under his shirt yesterday, but…" Willow's blush, which had slightly receded, returned in full force.

Joyce smiled. *_Hands__under__his__shirt?__That__'__s__what__causing__this__blush__…__Looks__like__Willow__is__more__talk__than__action._* "Willow, you're a growing girl. But you're still very young, so I'll just tell you to be careful and to know what you're doing and not to let yourself be forced into doing something you don't want to do. Not that I think Dave will do that, but better safe than sorry."

Willow nodded. "'kay, Mom."

"Good. Let's get you ready for the play then. You still want to do this?"

"Yup. The show must go on." Willow raised her chin and marched off to face one of her nightmares

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The audience settled in to watch a show to remember. Joyce and Simon sat side by side, with Dawn next to them. Cecilia and James sat on Dawn's other side, with Cecilia next to Principal Snyder and Danielle on his other side. Patrick and Clarice beyond that. Arlene had stayed home to take care of Kit and Evy. James was carrying a small camera and Patrick had managed to borrow one of the electronic one's the bodyguards used. The latter were spread around the room, some watching, others filming. A new hire, Anne Devouton, was in charge of keeping the girls safe in the dressing room. Bchenka was Xander's assigned guard.

One of the singers fell of the stage. One forgot her lines and ran off the stage, sobbing. The tuba player dropped the tuba on her toe when she got up after running out of breath. The really bad trombonist got a laugh and loud applause for launching his slide at Principal Snyder, who managed to dodge the bent copper with amazing agility and a good deal of luck. The band of woodwinds and brass performed creditably. Two of the other singers managed to sing in tune and not fall, stumble or faint. The first stand up comedian fell flat; his material only earning a polite applause when he left the stage. The next two singers performed unmemorable songs in unmemorable ways.

The animal trainer was bitten by the ferret, the rabbit, and the one eyed hamster and scratched by the evil and elusive school cat, which he had caught to 'spice up' his act. He received some minor applause and was taken to the school nurse for a tetanus shot.

The Ballet group performed very well and were joined on stage by their choreographer and all were loudly applauded.

The second stand up comedian managed to put the audience to sleep until the ferret escaped its cage and ran up his trousers, while being chased by its master, much to the amusement of the audience. The yelps and screams continued for quite a while after the curtain fell. The comedian too, was taken to the school nurse.

Next up were the Slayerettes.

Buffy, Willow and Amy were chanting their final lines in sing song voices, weaving gently on the rhythm of their own words.

"Ay, sir, all this is so: but why  
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?  
Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites,  
And show the best of our delights:  
I'll charm the air to give a sound,  
While you perform your antic round:  
That this great king may kindly say,  
Our duties did his welcome pay."

They let out a final cackle and dropped back through the hatch behind them, on the soft crash pad below.

Xander looked around wildly, as if trying to find them.

"Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour  
Stand aye accursed in the calendar!  
Come in, without there!"

The three girls popped up again and then Dave came out from the wings. They took a short bow and then went off stage. They were followed by loud applause. Once in the wings Willow hugged Dave and kissed him fiercely and with abandon. Then the cloth that formed that part of the wings fell down, revealing the young couple to the entire audience.

The auditorium was completely silent for a few seconds. Then a smattering of applause began and a few cat calls. Joyce closed her eyes in sympathy for Willow, who would no doubt be mortified. She saw the very moment the two teens realised they were on display. Being on the front row she could see Willow's eyes widen. Then Dave swung her into a full Rudolf Valentino kiss, bending her over and seemingly ignoring the audience. After half a minute he drew her back up. Willow looked dazed, and was blushing furiously, but certainly did not seem unhappy and Dave drew her down in a bow with him. Audible over the laughter of the audience was the voice of Principal Snyder addressing Cecilia. "I don't get it, is it Avant Garde?"

Cordelia Chase, standing in the opposite wing, looked at her friend with a smile on her face. "Right Harm, you're up next."

Harmony blinked. "W-what?"

"Harm…I can't sing. We both know it. You can. You've been practicing this song with me for weeks and you're perfect. You don't have the silly excuse that you can't remember the lines, 'cause I know you know them. I'll be here in the wings, waiting for you and cheering you on. I've got the boards with the text if you really need them, but we both know you don't. Now, get out there and sing. Show them the real Harmony Kendall."

Harmony was about to protest some more when Cordelia took her hand and led her onto the stage. "As I'm indisposed by the fact I can't sing, my friend Harmony will sing the song _Greatest__love__of__all_, and do it much, much better than I ever could. Thank you!" Cordelia signalled the master of music and blithely went off, left stage. Harmony looked confused for a moment, then straightened up and started to sing as the music began.

"I believe the children are our are future  
Teach them well and let them lead the way  
Show them all the beauty they possess inside  
Give them a sense of pride to make it easier  
Let the children's laughter remind us how we used to be  
Everybody searching for a hero  
People need someone to look up to  
I never found anyone who fulfill my needs  
A lonely place to be  
So I learned to depend on me"

The silence in the theatre was a mixture of stunned disbelief and awe. Harmony's voice was warm, rich and full of life, so utterly unlike her normal speaking voice that it was almost unbelievable. On the second row Eliza Kendall grasped her husband's hand and both of them had to swallow to keep their tears back. Felicity and Melody each next to one of their parents; leaned into them, tears running down their faces. Her classmates looked at each other, amazement on their faces. Back stage Rupert Giles and Jenny Calendar, wearing dressing gowns over their costumes, were struck speechless.

"And if by chance, that special place  
That you've been dreaming of  
Leads you to a lonely place  
Find your strength in love"

Harmony finished the song and looked serenely into the audience. She bowed slightly and went off, being grabbed into a massive hug by Cordelia. The applause rang out together with cheers and requests for an encore. Back stage the Slayerettes looked at each other.

"Harmony can sing?" Xander whispered.

"Cordelia admitted someone else is better than she is?" Amy said incredulously.

"Harmony can sing?" Willow repeated Xander's words. "She can actually remember her lines?"

Xander grinned. "She can…Looks like we'll have to adjust our view of her a bit more."

Buffy merely looked thoughtful. She hadn't known Harmony for very long and her ideas about the blonde were not nearly as set in stone as her friend's but she was still surprised. It made her wonder who else was not quite what they seemed.

In the audience Simon looked at Joyce and then leaned over and whispered. "You didn't approve of the way I spoke of Harmony and Cordelia I take it?"

Joyce blinked. "Well, I thought you were bit harsh." Her eyes widened. "I did that?" She squeaked, looking at the stage.

Simon chuckled. "Yes…I think you did and you most certainly tore the shells of everyone's eyes, Harmony and Cordelia included. Did you notice by the way, that Harmony's parents are here to watch Cordelia, but Cordelia's own aren't?"

Joyce nodded slowly. "Yes…I had." They stopped their whispering and turned towards the stage as the curtain rose to reveal the final act, the duet of Rupert Giles and Jenny Calendar.

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Rupert and Jenny looked at each other as the curtain fell on Harmony's song, obscuring the stage between acts. Then they looked on as the scene for their act was set. A backdrop showing a fairy tale representation of an Arab city that had been dug up from the depths of the basement by enthusiastic pupils eager to embarrass their teachers even more. A balcony was wheeled from the rear, newly painted white, to look like a credible representation of an Arabian Nights palace.

A large carpet wired to a steel frame was hoisted into the air several feet and a small stepladder was put next to it. Jenny shuddered. "I can't believe we agreed to this."

"Agreement hardly came into it."

Jenny looked around at the faces of the teenage boys that were watching her with more than a little interest. "R-Rupert? Would you…take yours off first?"

Giles was about to make a snappy retort when he saw the honest anxiety on Jenny's face. "Of course."

With a sigh he took off his robe and put on the final piece of his costume, the fez. Giles was dressed in patched Arabian trousers and a faded button-less waistcoat that hung open at the front, showing a considerable amount of bare chest and lean muscle. He slipped his feet from the horrendous toe slippers and stood, straight and proud. There was an audible gasp from Harmony.

"Oh my God! He's like totally hot!"

Giles blushed to his navel. Jenny grinned, weakly and then slipped off her own robe, revealing the shimmering blue silk ensemble that Joyce Summers had chosen for her. Giles carefully reached out and took the diadem from her clenched hand and placed it upon her tied back hair.

There were whispers from all around and Jenny uncomfortably put her hands over her bare midriff. Giles offered his arm and she took it hesitantly, allowing him to lead her to the prop balcony. She climbed the ladder at the back and took up her position. Giles walked to the carpet, mounted the steps and sat on his knees on the carpet. He took a deep breath and looked up at the balcony where Jenny was grasping the balustrade with whitening fingers. He nodded encouragingly and waited to signal Jeffrey at the sound equipment until she gave him a shaky nod in return. Someone scurried to get the steps and the steel cables tautened and the carpet rose a trifle. The curtains lifted as he approached the balcony. There was an appreciative murmur from the audience, whether at the intricate staging or at their apparel, he did not know.

On the first row Simon Eyed Joyce, who was grinning wickedly. "Remind me never to get you that angry at me…"

Rupert held out his hand and spoke his first line. "Will you fly with me, princess?"

Jenny eyed him appreciatively and then lithely jumped over the balcony. "Well, I could do worse I suppose." There was some laughter and Giles glared at her. *_That__was__not__in__the__script.__I__will__get__you__for__that__one,__Jenny__Calendar_!*

Jenny crossed her arms beneath her breasts, and took a deep breath. It was obvious to Giles that once the curtain was up; all her stage fright and nervousness was gone. "So. What do ya got?"

Giles struggled hard to contain his amusement. In answer he swiftly seized her round the waist with one arm, causing Jenny to let out a small squeal that made the audience laugh. He plumped her down slightly in front and to the side of him and sat down on his knees again.

He gestured delicately and the music began. Giles felt the warmth of Jenny's scantily clad and oh so delectable body and had to rein in a powerful urge to kiss her right there and then. Instead he started the song.

"I can show you the world  
Shining, shimmering, splendid  
Tell me, princess, now when did  
You last let your heart decide?

I can open your eyes  
Take you wonder by wonder  
Over, sideways and under  
On a magic carpet ride" 

He winked at her and let his hand slip around her bare back, causing her to shiver. She glared at him, but managed to make it look smouldering for the audience. They started the chorus together.

"A whole new world  
A new fantastic point of view  
No one to tell us no  
Or where to go  
Or say we're only dreaming" 

Giles fell silent and listened to Jenny's clear soprano, letting her lead and joining in where needed

"A whole new world  
A dazzling place I never knew  
But when I'm way up here  
It's crystal clear  
That now I'm in a whole new world with you  
Now I'm in a whole new world with you

Unbelievable sights  
Indescribable feeling  
Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling  
Through an endless diamond sky

A whole new world  
Don't you dare close your eyes  
A hundred thousand things to see  
Hold your breath - it gets better  
I'm like a shooting star  
I've come so far  
I can't go back to where I used to be

A whole new world  
Every turn a surprise  
With new horizons to pursue  
Every moment red-letter  
I'll chase them anywhere  
There's time to spare  
Let me share this whole new world with you

A whole new world  
That's where we'll be  
A thrilling chase  
A wondrous place  
For you and me"

There were loud cheers, whistles and cat calls, as well as applause and the librarian and the Comp Sci teacher blushed furiously as the curtain went down. Giles took of his street rat fez. "Well, that could have been worse."

"Yeah right. Every boy in this school is going to be leering, lusting and drooling after me from now on."

"Not just the boys." He thoughtlessly corrected her. Then he flushed and scurried away, leaving her to look after him in some bemusement.

He moved past Harmony and jumped, letting out a small scream. He gave Harmony a wide-eyed panicked look and fled. Harmony grinned and held out a hand. Cordelia put in five dollar bills, pouting. "At least tell me what it felt like."

Jenny gritted her teeth and stepped forward. "Firm, muscular and all _mine_." She growled at the two popular girls. Harmony paled and dropped the money in her haste to flee. Cordelia held out a second, biting her lip, before speaking.

"I-I put Harm up to it…If you need to punish someone…" She swallowed and ran after Harmony.

Jenny looked after them thoughtfully. The she bent to pick up the money. She'd give them to Harmony later. She owed the girl that for clarifying exactly what she thought about Rupert.

**End Note:**

**And there we have the performances finished. I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Jehanne de Domrémy, also Jehanne d'Arc, Joan of Arc, (January 6th 1412-May 30th 1431), was instrumental in driving the English out of France in the later stages of the Hundred years War, breaking the Siege of Reims and allowing the Dauphin (crown prince) of France to be crowned king. She was betrayed to the English by those who feared her influence, given a highly biased and unfair trial and burned at the stake as a Witch and a heretic. She was exonerated in 1456 and La Pucelle was beatified in 1909 and sanctified in 1920, becoming one of the Patron Saints of France. In the comics she is a Slayer, I've just taken it a step further.**

**The evil and elusive school cat does not appear anywhere in this story before. So no need to look for it. I may feature it again, however, in a similarly important role. Or write a short set along the lines of _Culinary__Explorations__…_**

**Rudolf Valentino (May 6, 1895 – August 23, 1926) was a star of the Silver screen, famous for his smouldering looks and kisses. Little old ladies still leave flowers on his grave to this day… **


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